


The Blue Antonov

by tentography



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Notting Hill Fusion, Bookshop owner Kun, Johnny is an oscar winning actor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentography/pseuds/tentography
Summary: It’s interactions with people like her that makes Kun question his decision to up-end his life in China to open a specialized bookstore in a backstreet of a Seoul neighbourhood. It was probably number three in his top ten of WTF decisions, very closely behind that time when he decided to bleach his hair back in college after going through a small identity crisis. At least it got him laid a couple of times, but the scalp burn.. not worth it.Or: the one where Kun runs a small bookstore and Johnny, a famous actor, stumbles into his life. Yes, this is absolutely a Notting Hill AU.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re actually telling me you don’t have a single copy of Harry Potter for sale.”

“Yep.”

“Not a single one, among all of these books.”

“Nope.”

“What kind of bookstore are you running here?”

“One that specializes in airplanes and anything pertaining to the sky and aviation, ma’am.”

“Well, you just lost a valuable customer.”

“Alright.” Kun lazily waves at the woman angrily stomping away and muttering under her breath, the little bell on the door ringing loudly as she storms out.

It’s interactions with people like her that makes Kun question his decision to up-end his life in China to open a specialized bookstore in a backstreet of a Seoul neighbourhood. It was probably number three in his top ten of WTF decisions, very closely behind that time when he decided to bleach his hair back in college after going through a small identity crisis. At least it got him laid a couple of times, but the scalp burn.. not worth it. As for the number one - Kun doesn’t like to talk about it. It’s quite terrible, really, involving at least four different people, three different languages across two different continents and a whole lot of headaches. Anyway. Regardless of its high position on his WTF decisions list, he’s fond of his little bookshop _The Blue Antonov_. Kun almost has no regrets. Almost.

His phone rings, momentarily distracting him from his thoughts re: his bad decisions, only to be reminded of another one of his questionable decisions as he sees the caller ID. Little Cabbage.

“Kun-ge!” Chenle wails, his high pitched voice ringing in Kun’s ears. 

“I was just about to call you, are you okay?” He expected Chenle to wobble in about an hour ago. His one and only part-timer was a habitual late-comer and is usually half an hour late to all of his shifts. Kun chalks it up to his carefree nature, he can’t be bothered to reprimand the kid for it. He’s too adorable.

Kun figured something must’ve happened and wanted to check up on him earlier, but then Miss Potter came waltzing in and she’d wasted about thirty minutes of his life insisting on buying her fucking book. Why was it so hard for people to understand that a bookstore with about twenty different model airplanes hanging from the ceiling and book displays decorated exclusively with airplanes only fucking sold books about, you’ve guessed it, airplanes. Kun will never understand.

“’M sorry, we had a visitor at my house and I couldn’t miss it! I’m coming!” Chenle pants, his sneakers squeaking across concrete in the background.

“Are you running? It’s fine you don’t have to rush. Oh, and can you get me my coffee, Lele?”

“Yessir! Issit slow today?” Chenle says, catching his breath and slowing down from his jog.

Kun snorts. “One actual paying customer and one very angry lady looking for Harry Potter in about,” He cranes his head to look at the clock hanging behind him, “two and a half hours of being open.”

“Ah, that sucks bro. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Don’t forget my coffee,” Kun reminds him.

“Right! Twenty minutes then!” Chenle screams into the phone before hanging up. Kun will probably see him in an hour.

Kun isn’t bothered by Chenle being late. He doesn’t actually need a part-timer as he’s perfectly capable of doing inventory, customer service and accountancy on his own. With an average rate of two customers per three hours, Kun has plenty of time to handle his little business, but the company was welcome.

Chenle had walked in one day, eyes wide at the walls lined with shelves stuffed to the brim with books and airplanes dangling from the ceiling, paper planes tastefully strewn about the store. He’d shuffled nervously on his feet, asking him in broken Korean if he was hiring.

“No,” Kun had replied in Chinese, laughing at the way Chenle’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “But if you tell me why you’re interested in working for me then I might.”

He’d stayed the entire afternoon talking to Kun about how his family moved recently and how he was nervous about starting school in a foreign country. He wanted to practice his Korean and gain some life skills that didn’t involve having to rely on using his family name or money. Kun had already figured Chenle was a Young Master from some kind of rich family, and he certainly wasn’t wrong. It turned out that his family acquired basically half of the neighbourhood. Kun couldn’t say no to a kid who sincerely wanted to improve himself. Especially one this adorable.

So, Kun has a part-timer he doesn’t actually need who more or less does menial tasks and gets him coffee a few times a day from Ten’s café next door. He’ll dust off the bookshelves without even being told to do so, he’ll answer the phone if Kun is in the bathroom or otherwise occupied and is great at helping customers with a warm smile. When there’s nothing for him to do, Chenle camps out in the little reading nook under the stairs leading up to another floor where Kun keeps the books on astrology and aliens (which Ten and Xiaojun forced him to add to his stock) doing homework, or reading one of the store’s books. Sometimes he’ll be alone, but more often than not he’ll be accompanied by his group of friends who took over his store as their study space. Kun doesn’t mind the kids coming over almost daily, they are actually the nicest teenagers he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing. Plus, they bring him snacks every time they come over. Maybe Kun needs to be a little more mindful of his diet. Working and living next to Ten’s café means that he is often regarded as a dumping ground for their baked rejects. Kun can’t say that he hates it.

A quick glance at the wall shows that it’s almost noon, meaning that Chenle is almost two hours late. But more importantly, it’s almost time for lunch. He made the sickest bulgogi sandwiches yesterday before he went to sleep for him and Chenle, if he’ll ever arrive, and honestly, Kun has been looking forward to eating them ever since he woke up this morning.

Yeah, Kun’s highlights of his days are his lunches and dinners. Sue him.

Kun learned early on in his career of running a specialized bookshop that it basically fucking sucked unless you’re able to find pleasures in the little things life does throw at you. For Kun, that means delicious lunches, having a dozen or so regular customers who respect him and his work, being the guardian of a little squadron of teenagers who hook him up with snacks and keep him up to date on neighbourhood as well as their school’s gossips, and having a solid friend group not even a stones-throw away from him.

Don’t get him wrong, Kun truly loves the store and the life that comes with it. He loves waking up every morning to the sound of four different alarms blaring through the house at the same exact time (6.45AM, Xiaojun forces everyone to stick to the same schedule.) He loves padding down the stairs from his room on the third floor and hearing a chorus of ‘mornin’ kun-ge’ from his housemates on the second floor as he makes his way down to the kitchen on the first floor. He loves the sound of everyone around him getting ready to face the day while he makes them breakfast, and sometimes he’ll make them lunch too if he has enough time. Once everyone piles into the kitchen, Hendery is usually the first, closely followed by Xiaojun with Lucas running in last, Kun will wash up while the other three fight over the food, and once they finish inhaling their meals, they’ll inevitably fight over who has to do the dishes.

Meanwhile, Kun’ll take a quick shower, laughing at whatever nonsense Lucas has written in the mirror for him to read once it fogs up. (Kun shares the first-floor bathroom with Lucas, Xiaojun and Hendery have long since commandeered the second floor bathroom.) He’ll get dressed while the other three decide that they’ll all be helping with the dishes with one person doing the washing and the others doing the drying and storing. That’s also how Kun’ll find them again in the kitchen, bickering and playing around. He’ll have to remind them that they’ll be late to their shifts, classes or other schedules if they don’t hurry up and that’s when the real morning rush starts. Each and every one of them will run up and down the stairs in search of their bags and coats and shoes and trinkets instead of keeping them all ready near the door like Kun suggested a million times before. And once they are all out of the door into the Seoul Wilderness, Kun will grab his messenger bag, lock up and walk down the eleven or so stone steps and turn a sharp right to unlock The Blue Antonov.

By the time he walks through the door and deposits his bag behind the counter it’ll be around eight in the morning or so. That’ll give him an hour for him to check his emails for new orders and inquiries, do some dusting and take care of other matters before he opens. He loves how the natural light falls into the store, softly illuminating the rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with titles Kun carefully selected himself. From the large picture books, the personal biographies, to the aviation study books often bought by aspiring pilots and even the children books for the young enthusiasts – Kun personally picked each and every item to ensure his customers only get the best of the best. And when a customer strolls in and ends up leaving satisfied with their purchase? One of the best feeling in the world, second only to the quiet moments Kun spends in his store. When it’s just Kun sorting through new orders (most of his sales go through the web in this digital world), Chenle dusting off the shelves talking with his friends studying in the nook and (more often than not) Ten coming over from next door to have a chat, Kun thinks it’s all worth it. 

Speaking of the devil, Kun waves at Ten through the window, sees him appraise the new display he’d put up yesterday evening before swinging open the door, bell ringing loudly.

“Nice sweater, Kun. Did you go rummaging through old man Wei’s closet? Lele hasn’t stopped by ours yet, so I thought I’d sacrifice my precious time to deliver your usual. I know, I know I’m such a great person! How’s your ancient body holding up without caffeine?” Ten says, talking a mile a minute, handing Kun a coffee, one sugar no milk. 

Kun takes the mug, reluctantly mumbling a thanks. “Shouldn’t you be looking after your café instead of bullying little old me.”

“Nah, I’m good. _My_ part-timers actually know how to work the store and arrive on time.”

“That’s because _your_ part-timers live in _my_ house above _my_ store situated next to _your café._”

“Isn’t it great how life turns out?” Ten hoists himself up on the counter, happily swinging his legs, looking through the papers Kun was busy with like he owns the place. Kun shakes away the mental image of Ten as a cat. It’s scarily accurate. 

“Absolutely fucking amazing, Ten.” Kun snatches the papers away from Ten and his prying eyes, carefully storing them in his documents folder. He definitely doesn’t need Ten looking at The Blue Antonov’s financial performance of last month.

“I was actually here to tell you that my friend is coming into town and we’re gonna have a little get together with the gang. You’re coming,” Ten continues, unaffected.

“I am?” Kun asks, taking a long swig from his coffee. “What if I’m busy, though.”

“Yeah, because your social and work life is fucking packed,” Ten snorts, gesturing dramatically at the empty store. “Do me a favour and like, come and have fun with us. I can’t handle another social event where Doie keeps bitching at me about you being a no-show and Lucas starts drunk-crying even though you guys literally live together.”

“Alright, fine. But only for Lucas.” Kun concedes. The mental image of a crying Xuxi is too much for him to bear. Doyoung can go fuck himself, honestly. Nah, Kun is kidding. Half-kidding.

“Great!” Ten exclaims, hopping off the counter. “Buy a lot of snacks okay? We’re hanging out at yours. I’ll text you the details.” And with that Ten leaves before Kun can protest, waving at him through the window, running back to his café with a hop in his step. 

Great my ass. It’s shit like this why Kun always cancels on them. He’s going to have to put away his new models before they become weapons of mass destruction in whatever fight that’s inevitably going to break out in his living room when you put all of them together. His friends are sloppy drunks, every single one of them. Except for Taeil and Sicheng. God bless them. Kun can’t even recall how many times he and Sicheng had to break up a drunken fight between Ten and Doyoung ever since their college days back in China. He stupidly thought that they would grow out of their petty fighting over time, but alas their fights only grew in intensity. (It was probably because of all the growing-up they had to do. The frustration kind of builds up you know, adulting is actually really hard.) Yuta had once jokingly said that they should live-stream their fights and have people take bets on who’d win to earn a little bit of extra cash. Taeyong and Jaehyun had suggested they’d fight shirtless so they could charge a higher fee for watching and Taeil offered to create the website. That’s when Kun decided to step in to prevent his friends from essentially starting a niche soft-porn business. He was really getting too old for their bullshit.

Oh well, despite their weird tendencies Kun still considers them his best friends.

Almost exactly an hour after their phone call, Chenle walks into the store with a big smile on his flushed face. “Kun-ge! I made it!”

“Sorry for being so late, but some big Hollywood production is going to be shot on one of our estates. And get this – they’ll be filming at the main house too! My backyard is going to be in a movie! Do you think if I hang around in the background I’ll get filmed too? Isn’t it exciting!”

“That’s nice, Lele.” Kun says, waving off his apology, only half registering the rush of words coming out of Chenle’s mouth. There was enough time for chit-chat later, but first. “I made lunch, do you want some?”

“Yeah!”

x

The old Chinese couple, grandma and grandpa Wei, who previously owned the store were long-time friends of Kun’s grandparents and sold Kun their little traditional medicine store including their house above it for a sweet price so they could retire and return to China. The house spanned over four floors and was way too big for a single person with its four bedrooms, two bathrooms and huge attic space.

When Kun decided he would rent out the three bedrooms to earn some cash he’d told himself he would be extremely selective of his potential housemates. This plan was, of course, foiled by Ten when he told him that he had some Chinese friends who were looking for a place to stay near their campus. In hindsight, Kun should’ve known they would be whack. How normal could they be if they were friends with Ten out of their own accord. Nevertheless, Kun took in Xiaojun, Hendery and Lucas, three graduate students at the local university who were indeed in dire need of an affordable place to stay. How could Kun say no to his fellow countrymen? More pressingly, how could Kun say no to Ten? Seriously? Does anyone have a solution? Those eyes and wicked smile, they really pull you into his orbit.

Renting out his spare rooms to three interesting individuals often results in Kun finding himself in peculiar situations. There was that one time when Kun found Xiaojun, Hendery and Lucas huddled around the couch, only to find out that Lucas brought home a baby goat which he proudly announced while letting the goat nibble at his carpet, or that one time Xiaojun and Hendery decided to use the empty space in the attic as a dance studio, which resulted in Hendery’s foot breaking through the floor panels right above Kun’s bed after a particularly intense dance move. And more often than Kun would personally like, he encounters barely clothed, and sometimes even naked strangers in his home as is usually the case when living with people in their early twenties.

Such is the situation he finds himself in right now. He just finished closing up the shop, dancing and singing softly while punching in the code of his front door, excited to work on his figurines and maybe watch a movie with whoever’s available. He opened the door and there he was. Naked Man.

“Uh, hi?” Kun says.

“Hi there,” Naked Man waves sheepishly, his one hand very late to cover his crotch to conceal his situation. While his hands are, admittedly, rather large Kun can still see, well, the entire package. Nice.

“Who are you with?” Kun asks, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation. He doesn’t want to potentially embarrass him any further. Naked Man seems a little bit on the older side for Xiaojun and Hendery’s usual tastes. Was he Lucas’ maybe? Although Lucas prefers his partners to be slightly smaller than him. In his own words he ‘likes to wrap around people, like a huge, warm blanket.’ Kun never really understood what that really meant, until now. Hello blanket.

“Uh, no one?” Confused, Naked Man tilts his head. 

Okay, uh, what the fuck.

Kun grabs one of the umbrellas next to the coat stand, swinging Xiaojun’s lady-bug printed umbrella at Uninvited Naked Man. “How did you get in, who are you?”

Uninvited Naked Man screams, bracing himself for impact. “Wait! Don’t hit me!”

“Shut up, pervert!”

“Ten told me to come here! He told me the code and everything!”

Kun pauses, mid-swing.

Ugh, _of course_ Uninvited Naked Man was acquainted to Ten. They almost always are. Kun _has_ to change his door code and not tell Ten the combination next time. He slumps, trying to calm down his heart. “You’re his friend then? The one who’s visiting?”

“That’ll be me. I’m Johnny.” Johnny says, going back to cover his, you know, now that he isn’t in immediate danger of being bludgeoned to death by umbrella.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kun,” He says, depositing the umbrella back in the rack, knees feeling like jelly. Nothing like a naked visitor to get the blood rushing, in more ways than one.

“Likewise, Kun. I’d shake your hand, but my nuts are kinda hanging loose. Ten forgot to give me a towel before he left me here. I was looking for one when you walked in.”

“Right. Of course. Let me get you a towel.” Kun mumbles, sliding past Johnny and the little puddle of water forming in the hallway to get to the linen cupboard and - oh okay Johnny used his shampoo? Nice, okay, cool. “Unless you prefer to air dry?” He takes out a big fluffy yellow towel and hands it to his slightly shivering guest.

“Not in the company of strangers,” Johnny laughs, rubbing the towel over his very defined, very nice looking body. “Although we’re hardly strangers by now,” He winks, eyes full of mirth, little droplets of water cling to his eyelashes. A small drop falls from his lashes, landing on his slightly protruding lower lip. Johnny licks it away.

Shit, that’s hot. Kun needs to go. “Right. Well. Do as you please. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Didn’t you just come up, though?” Johnny says, finally wrapping the towel around his waist.

“Yep. I’m going back down now.” Kun turns, attempting to make a quick exit.

“Wait,” Johnny grabs Kun by the hem of his sweater. “Just, uhm, where are you going? This house is so big and it smells like my dad’s medicine it kind of creeps me out, please don’t leave me alone.”

What the fuck he’s so big and tall what’s he so afraid for. And he’s still. So. Fucking. Naked. The towel covers nothing. Kun kind of wants to sigh and scream all in one go but instead, he says, “I’m going to my shop. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join me once you’re ready.”

“Really?”

Kun nods, trying not to think about how his eyes are basically at Johnny’s nipple height.

“Thanks, Kun! I appreciate it.” Johnny beams, loosening his hold on Kun’s sweater, patting awkwardly at the crumpled fabric.

Kun nods and runs out the door. Very smooth.

He thunders down the stairs and struggles with his keys for a bit before he remembers that Johnny isn’t here anymore so he can, like, relax for a second and open the shop door without acting like he’s being followed by a serial-killer. It’s dark inside, because he closed the shop not even ten minutes ago. The blinds are closed and the shutters are down, but Kun isn’t ready to potentially face Johnny again in full light, so he keeps it this way for his own peace of mind. He stumbles across the store, stubbing his toe on a display, fumbles around in the dark looking for the light switch in the nook under the stairs and settles in his favourite armchair. 

Right. So. Hot Naked Man. Johnny is his name. Ten’s friend. The one who’s in town for the next two weeks. For once, not a sexy-time guest of one of his housemates. Big, big.. hands. Interesting. Kun has much to think about. Particularly, the way Johnny looked absolutely unashamed at being caught naked, not even bothering to properly cover himself. Kun is not going to lie, but that kind of confidence? Hot as hell. And why should that man be embarrassed? Big cock. Uh, hands. Right.

In between being caught off-guard at the naked surprise and then thinking he was a naked burglar or some shit, Kun did get a proper look at Johnny. His hair was a wet soft brown mess on his head, Kun’s sure that it looks better when it’s not wet and tangled in a crazy knot, but his _face_. Kun doesn’t know if his eyes were slightly hooded because he just came out of the shower all relaxed and warm and flushed, or if Johnny always looks like he’s about to beckon people into his sex-cave for some spicy times. Kun is afraid to find out. His nose’s very cutely turned up, and snuggled right under it were quite possibly the most sinful lips Kun has ever encountered in his life, all plump and defined. Much to fucking think about. His long neck tapered down to broad shoulders, like, Xuxi level broad, which is really fucking broad and a slim but defined waist. And oh – the hair trailing down southwards. Kun doesn’t know how appropriate it is to think about his best friend’s friend’s pubes but yeah, here he is thinking about his best friend’s friend’s pubes. He is strongly in favour of happy trails, doesn’t really understand the whole manscaping hype and clearly Johnny doesn’t either God bless his beautiful soul.

In a half-assed effort to stop lusting after Ten’s extremely hot friend, Kun smacks himself in the face a couple of times and opens the drawer on the low table. He fishes out the book he’s reading, _The Old Man And The Sea,_ and drifts off to Cuba.

About a chapter and a half later, the shop door opens with a ring, the bell bringing Kun back to his semi-ritzy neighbourhood in Seoul.

Right. It’s him. This time _not_ naked, but still very attractive. He ditched the towel for a casual look, wearing a fluffy beige coat and a simple black t-shirt over blue jeans, sporting round black-rimmed glasses. Against literally no one’s expectations, Johnny still looks incredibly cute.

“Hi, I hope I’m not imposing,” Johnny says, stepping inside the store, gingerly closing the door behind him in an effort to be as silent as possible.

“Not at all, please come in,” Kun says, beckoning him inside. He stuffs his flower bookmark Chenle made for him in his beaten novel and watches his new visitor stand awkwardly at the entrance. “Would you like a drink? I only have tea, though.”

“Tea sounds great, thanks.” Johnny walks further into the store, drifting over to read the titles carefully stored in the shelves, fingers ghosting over the works in the low light. “Wow, is this your own store? I think Ten mentioned you a few times. You’re the one with the speciality bookshop then?”

“That’s me,” Kun says, having moved to work his kettle behind the counter. “You know that Ten’s café is next door right? He’s definitely in if you’d like to stop by his place.”

“Yeah, he told me to come over when I was done, but his café gets pretty crowded. I prefer more peaceful places,” Johnny says, eyes fixated on Kun’s ceiling full of airplanes. “Like yours.”

“Fair enough. I prefer it too.” Kun smiles at Johnny, but the other is busy snapping pictures with his phone. He watches Johnny wander around filling the small space of the bookshop with his large presence. Kun focuses on watching the water finish its boil. “What brings you to town?”

“I’m here for a job,” Johnny says. He doesn’t offer more information, so Kun doesn’t ask about the specifics.

“Oh, that’s nice. Do you travel a lot for work?” Kun continues. The kettle clicks off.

“Yes. I’m usually not in Korea, so I’m happy to be back again.”

“Where are you usually then?” Kun asks, pouring the tea, jasmine green tea courtesy of Chenle’s friend Renjun, in his nicest teapot. It’s a blue teapot decorated with delicate white flowers given to him as a gift by the Old Wei’s who sold him the store. He only busts it out for special occasions. A hot man in his store? Definitely a special occasion.

“I’m from Chicago, but nowadays I live in LA,” Johnny says, making his way over to the counter. “What about you? You don’t sound Korean?” He asks, taking the teapot from Kun gesturing over to the nook, and Kun nods in approval. He carefully handles the ceramic in his large hands as he walks to the cosy space, making sure it lands softly on the low table.

“I’m from China, actually,” Kun answers, following him to the nook, two teacups in hand. “How is Los Angeles? I’ve always wanted to go to America.”

Johnny settles in Kun’s favourite armchair, so Kun sits opposite of him on the L-shaped sofa.

“If you’re ever in LA come visit me, okay? I’ll let you use my shower too.” Johnny laughs. “I had a hunch you were from China. I love it there, the food’s delicious.”

Kun snorts, pouring their tea, passing a cup to the other. “Thanks for the offer, I’ll use your shampoo then too.”

“That was yours?” Johnny exclaims, choking a bit on his tea. “It smelled nice, I couldn’t help but use it. I’ll buy you a new one to make it up to you.”

Kun shrugs, smiling behind his cup. “Don’t worry about it, I buy that shit in bulk when it’s on discount. I love the smell too.”

“Damn, hook me up with some of that.”

“Sure.” Kun laughs, sipping his tea.

“Is it okay if I look around?” Johnny asks, eyeing some of the shelves in the back of the shop.

“Knock yourself out. I’ll be over here reading.” Kun says. He grabs his novel from where he discarded it on the table and opens it to continue reading where he left off.

“Thanks, Kun.” Johnny takes the dainty little teacup in his large hand, sniffing at the fragrant tea as he walks through the store, occasionally taking a sip from his drink.

Kun is painfully aware of Johnny’s movements through the shop. It’s not an awfully huge place, honestly. Kun would call The Blue Antonov rather tiny, but Ten has always complimented him on his smart usage of the space to create the illusion of someplace bigger. The high ceilings, large windows and open floor plan make the entire place look clear and bright, which is off-set by the dark wooden interior. He wonders if Johnny noticed the paper airplanes he folded together with his usual teenage suspects (Jeno had a real knack for it) wonders if he’s even remotely interested in airplanes and aviation or if he’s bored out of his mind at the selection Kun provides. He briefly considers notifying Johnny of the existence of the second floor where the more conventional books (AKA Ten and co. approved books) were situated, but it isn’t long before Johnny finds the section on his own.

Johnny shoots him a quick smile as he puts down his empty teacup next to Kun’s own before he ascends the stairs. Kun can hear him walk around right as he disappears from his sight, floorboards creaking above him under Johnny’s weight. Kun hears him leafing through one of the books and he wants to kick himself in the head for not having a more serious interest in aliens and astrology. Yes, he does know every single title and date of release up there by heart, but Ten and Xiaojun were the ones who did the real reading. He’s never seen a star war or a star trek, and now he was bearing the brunt of it.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Johnny calls out from above, head popping over the bannister to look at Kun. “Wanna order some pizza?”

“I could actually really go for pizza right now,” Kun says, closing his book.

“What do you want? I’ll order pizzas and fries and shit.” Johnny descends the stairs, fiddling with his phone, almost walking into the counter in front of him, before sheepishly walking over to the nook.

“Could you get me a Hawaiian please?”

“Pineapple? On pizza?” Johnny frowns, plopping down next to him on the sofa.

Kun shrugs. “Yeah, I like it.”

“And here I thought you were perfect.” Johnny tuts.

“What makes you think I’d ever be perfect? Pineapple on pizza is absolutely valid Mr I-just-substituted-my-tomato-base-for-BBQ-sauce. Yeah, I saw that don’t look so scandalized.” Kun scoffs.

“How is your eyesight so good?” Johnny says, scandalized.

“Laser surgery.” Kun deadpans. “Order my pizza or die.”

“Fine, fine.” Johnny relents, offering up his phone to Kun. “Could you type in the address?”

“Do you want to eat here or at the house? I hope you’re not permanently freaked out by the smell of my place. Ten’s planning on throwing you a party there.” Kun belatedly remembers. Shit, he still needs to buy snacks.

“Wherever is fine. I’ll be okay as long as you’re there.” Johnny says, watching Kun tap away on his phone.

“Right, okay.” Kun coughs. “Let’s have them deliver it here, I’ll die of starvation before I can make it up the stairs.”

“I could carry you upstairs.” Johnny offers and Kun can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Please don’t, let’s just veg out here. Plus, if we go back up we might have to share the food.”

“Smart, I hate sharing food.”

“But you don’t mind sharing with me?”

“I gotta appease the kind-hearted guy who almost bludgeoned me to death cause I surprised him with all my naked glory.”

“Alright.” Kun laughs. “I’ll eat everything you’re getting.”

“Not if I eat everything first.” Johnny challenges, taking back his phone from Kun’s fingers. Kun ignores the way his belly churns.

“You wouldn’t. What happened to appeasing me?”

“You just said you’d eat everything, I have to fight for my food.”

“Get out of my store,” Kun says, trying to push Johnny off the couch, but the fucker doesn’t budge.

“Please no!” Johnny flails, flopping down to lay down on the couch. “I’ll be forced to go to Ten and he’s so annoying.”

Kun moves, narrowly avoiding to end up with a lap full of Johnny’s head. “He really is, isn’t he,” he replies, playing it cool.

“I don’t know why we’re his friends,” Johnny says, looking up at him from below.

“It’s the smile.” Kun clears his throat.

Johnny hums. “It’s like he has us under a spell.”

“Hey, but at least we got to meet because of him.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Johnny says, scooting over to- oh, shit, okay settle his head in Kun’s _lap_.

“Not even in a less naked way? You know we were going to meet anyway, right?” Kun manages to squeak out and forces himself to, like, relax. He doesn’t know what power in the world is granting him this sudden confidence and ability to stay more or less calm and not freak the fuck out in front of Johnny, so he shoots a quick thanks to every single deity he knows just to be sure.

“Maybe in a more naked way?” Johnny cocks his head, eyes full of mirth and Kun swears he is laughing at him. He’s totally fucking doing this on purpose. Wait, is he fucking flirting? He’s fucking flirting, isn’t he?

“Okay enough chit-chat,” Kun says, flicking Johnny’s forehead in retaliation. “_Please_ order the food my stomach is going to cave in on itself”

Johnny laughs, the sound lighting up the entire store. “Anything for you, Kun.”

They wait like that for the food to arrive. Kun trying to read his book in peace, while doing everything in his power not to stare at Johnny who’s playing some game on his phone with full concentration. It is, obviously, excruciatingly difficult to focus on his book instead of his lap full of hot man, and he’s about eighty percent sure that Johnny knows he’s driving him absolutely crazy. Johnny must know what he’s doing to him, because Kun hasn’t turned a single page in the last fifteen minutes and he swears Johnny is smirking ever so slightly. Honestly, Kun just kind of wants to collapse.

There’s a knock on the shop door, and Kun practically flings himself off the couch, ignoring the little ‘ouch’ Johnny lets out after getting the life knocked out of him. Its what he deserves for teasing him for the last.. well, actually, entire fucking time he’s known him. He thanks the delivery dude who just stares at him with hopeful eyes, so Kun hands him some change he fishes out from his pocket. He swears that Johnny had already tipped online, though. Maybe the kid was strapped for cash. We’ve all been there.

Kun brings the bags full of delicious oily goodness to the nook and Johnny clears everything from the low table, carefully tucking in his flower bookmark at the page where he lingered for the past twenty fucking minutes. Kun wants to punch him. But he doesn’t. Instead, they eat.


	2. Chapter 2

Kun thinks it has to have been a while since Johnny’s last meal because the way he’s wolfing down his food like someone’s about to take it away from him is downright frightening. They relocated from the couch to the floor in order to prevent the food from spilling all over the place, hanging over the boxes stuffed with food like they were a pair of dirty frat boys or some shit, and Johnny honestly fits the part right now. But hey, they have to make do with what they have, right?

They’ve pretty much been occupied with eating ever since the delivery kid dropped off all their food, and while Kun doesn’t really feel awkward per se, their amicable silence is giving his mind the opportunity to overthink every single thing that’s happened over the past two hours.

“So, how did you get to know Ten?” Kun asks, hoping that Johnny hears him over the sounds of his aggressive eating. He kinda looks like a bear munching on his food. Cute.

Johnny looks up from his food, sheepishly putting down his pizza before wiping his mouth. He misses a little dot of BBQ-sauce above the right corner of his lip, but Kun doesn’t have to heart to tell him. He’s doing his best. “I met him when we were foreign exchange students at an international high school in Seoul,” Johnny says, wiping his hands with a couple more napkins. 

“Huh, that’s funny. I also got to know Ten when he did his exchange at my university in China.”

“I remember him going to China for his exchange when we were in college together,” Johnny says, thinking it over in his mind. He gasps, “Wait, are you one of the guys who-”

“I’m going to have to stop you right there,” Kun groans, burying his head in arms. Not this shit again. When will it fucking end? When will people stop reminding him of it? “ Yes, that would be me. And no, it was absolutely not my fault. Ten keeps twisting the story and I swear to god I will kill him one day.”

“You have to tell me your version of what happened, some things still don’t add up. Like, when did you all plan the whole Bangkok thing? How did you guys just end up there?” Johnny asks, patting Kun’s back.

“Let’s not talk about this, we were having such a nice evening.” Kun shakes his head, trying to dispel the memories from his mind. Fucking Bangkok. 

Johnny snorts, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Okay, as you wish,” he acquiesces but Kun knows this won’t be the fucking end of it. 

“Wait,” Kun remembers. “What were _you_ doing on an exchange in high school in South Korea, though?”

“My mom and dad sent me to Korea for a few months to make sure I got a proper taste of my own culture. It was awful.”

“How come?”

“You know how it is, school is awful in itself but going to high school in a foreign country. It sucked big time. I stuck to Ten like glue,” Johnny says, sipping at his Fanta.

“I bet he hated that.” Kun can already imagine teenager Ten being annoyed as fuck at the Korean guy following him around. Hilarious. 

“Yeah,” Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling at the memory, lips oily from his pizza. “He didn’t speak a single word of Korean but he just seemed to fit in, or at least, much better than I did, ‘ya know? Kids are scary.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kun says, absently chewing on his food, thinking of how he has to rely on Chenle and his friends to keep him up to date on what’s hip in the current day and age. They are nice kids, but he’s bewildered at how their minds work. He remembers being much more naïve at their age than they are now. Kids _are_ scary. “You’re right.”

Johnny takes a long swig of his Fanta. “Making friends is hard.”

Kun can’t help but snicker at Johnny’s dramatics. “I’m having a hard time imagining you as a socially stunted person. How long ago was this?”

“I’d say this was about 14 years ago,” Johnny concludes after thinking about it for a second. “Fifteen years old me could never imagine I’d be here being this friendly with someone I just met while naked.”

“Oh, so you’re a year older than I am,” Kun says, tucking away that piece of information in the back of his head. “If it makes you feel any better, fifteen years old me could also never imagine being in South-Korea eating pizza with some random Korean-American guy.”

“Some random Korean-American guy, huh,” Johnny articulates, carefully sounding out the words. “Is it weird that I like the sound of that?”

Kun shrugs. “To each his own, Johnny. To each his own.”

“Wait, all of this is _and_ the whole place above it is yours and you’re, what, twenty-eight?” Johnny gestures at the store.

“Please don’t look at me like that, it’s all just pure luck. You somehow travel the world for your job. I on the other hand, barely make sales.”

“But you look like you’ve got everything in check, though.”

“Looks can be deceiving, but I get by.” Honestly, Kun is lucky he can keep his business afloat solely through his housemates and the meagre amount of monthly sales he manages to generate. “You look like you’ve got everything under control too.”

“Like you said, looks can be deceiving.” Johnny shrugs.

“This is starting to get depressing,” Kun says, closing his now empty pizza-box. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“You want to get out of here or do you have a secret cabinet filled with alcohol somewhere?” Johnny says, tidying up their oily boxes of mostly eaten food.

Kun laughs. “Sadly, I don’t, maybe I’ll install one, though. We could go for a round?”

“I don’t like crowded places,” Johnny says, a bit shyly perhaps, not meeting Kun’s gaze as he busies himself with sorting out their dirty boxes. It’s a bit peculiar, Kun thinks, how Johnny seems so comfortable within his own skin when he teases Kun to hell and back, but terribly shy in the next.

Kun nods and helps Johnny with tidying the nook**. **The mood has come and gone, just like that, Kun’s left with the taste of regret. He shouldn’t have brought up going out, Johnny did mention before that he doesn’t like busy places. Maybe he should just call it a day, they had a good time together, and he’ll probably see him around still before Johnny has to leave again. He still has time, right? Tonight won’t be the end of this _thing, _right?

But he doesn’t really want it to end before anything has begun. Not yet. Not like this.

Kun doesn’t know what kind of demon is in possession of his body that gives him the confidence to actually say the words: “We can go to my place.” Kun wants to kick himself in the head for blurting out his invitation to someone who’s probably not at all interested. He prepares himself for a rejection, (Johnny’s been great up until now so he’ll be nice about it right?) but Johnny pauses and cocks his head at him, slightly pursing his lips in a little smile, and- oh his eyes, they kind of twinkle in the low light of the nook.

“Alright, lead the way, Kun.”

Johnny is quick to dispose of their dirty boxes and empty soda cans in the bins across the street while Kun locks up the store. He watches Johnny struggle with the boxes, trying to carry everything in one go (he offered to help, but he got shrugged off with a confident ‘I got this’). He does actually manage to haul their trash in one trip, so Kun has to give him that one.

He braces himself while he waits for Johnny to jog up to him. Kun can’t believe he’s inviting Johnny to come up to his place and get drunk in his room, he doesn’t even like getting drunk nor does he like having people he doesn’t exactly know in his house, but here he is doing exactly that. Although there’s definitely something going on between them, Kun is about 60% sure Johnny has been flirting with him the entire time for whatever unfathomable reason. Honestly, it’s been a hot minute for Kun since the last time he’s done anything remotely resembling whatever this entire evening with Johnny might be. And with Ten’s friend nonetheless. Kun is usually not someone who would ever fornicate within his own social circle, nor is he someone who goes out of his way to meet up with strangers for a little casual dating but maybe that’s the reason why his social circle is so fucking small and he’s gotten laid maybe once or twice in this entire fucking year (it’s fucking October already.) Maybe he’s being so bold cause he knows he’s only in town for a little while, but maybe he’s being so bold cause Johnny’s being bold.

“Kun,” Johnny says, or at least Kun thinks that’s what he says cause he can hardly hear anything over the way he can hear his heart race and blood rush right in his ears, as he nears the bottom of the stairs. Like this, with Kun standing on the step above him, he and Johnny are eye to eye. “We don’t have to do this.”

Kun is kind of done with not doing or only doing what he has to do instead of doing what he wants to do. It’s more or less the reason why he left China to play independent store-owner in a time where the printed word is a dying craft, only staying afloat because luck would have it, only staying sane cause he kept within his limits. He doesn’t want Johnny to be out of his limit, doesn’t want him to stay out of reach when he’s standing so, so close. So he shakes his head, forgets about all the reasons why he never does shit like this and holds out his hand to the other. “Come on.”

Johnny grins and he takes Kun’s hand in his own, palm kind of sweaty but his grasp is secure. Kun has never been one to enjoy holding hands, but he can’t help but marvel at how their fingers slot perfectly against each other, even though they are a bit sticky and gross from their food.

“I’m going to check if anyone’s home first, you just gotta be quiet,” Kun half-whispers as they climb the eleven or so stone stairs to the front door.

“Why are we sneaking around?” Johnny whispers back, rubbing circles into Kun’s skin with his thumb. 

“If the others know we’re drinking they’re going to want to join and trust me, you don’t want them to join.”

“How do you know I don’t want them around?” Johnny teases, ducking closer to Kun, crowding him against the door.

“Okay, fine. _I_ don’t want them around. They get noisy, I’m not in the mood.”

“You only had to say you want me all for yourself, Kun.”

“Well, you just had to pry it out then I guess,” Kun pouts, untangling his fingers from Johnny’s. He slides open the code-lock with a little more force than necessary. This guy plays too much. 

Johnny chuckles, sneaking his arm around Kun’s waist, nudging at him to open the door already. “Don’t be mad.”

“Shut up.” Kun flushes. He punches in the code and steps inside, feeling cold where Johnny had been standing right up against him.

“Xuxi? Xiaojun? Hendery? Anyone?” Kun yells. He waits a beat for an answer, but he’s greeted with nothing but silence. Sweet. “Alright, come on in,” he says, tugging Johnny inside. He kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat before padding off towards the kitchen, leaving Johnny standing in the hall like a chump.

“Are you coming or what?” Johnny’s been inside before, so Kun hardly thinks he has to escort him in. It takes another beat before he hears the other move, shucking off his coat and shoes.

“I didn’t get the chance to say it before, but I like your place. It’s very charming,” Johnny says when he finally walks into the kitchen while Kun’s busy washing his hands.

“Even though it smells like medicine?”

Johnny laughs, leaning against the counter next to Kun. “It doesn’t creep me out as much now that I’m not alone.”

“Good,” Kun says, rummaging through his cabinets and fridge. “What’s your poison?”

“What do you have?” Johnny asks.

“Let me see, there’s vodka vanilla and.. cheap beer.”

“Let’s not.”

“It’s all I have.”

“No, I mean, let’s not drink tonight,” Johnny says, trapping Kun against the counter. Kun freezes, waiting to see what the fuck Johnny’s about to do. Johnny hooks his chin over Kun’s shoulder, hands snaking behind his back. He wonders if Johnny can feel the way his heart is about to fall right out of his chest from the way it’s thundering against his ribcage. The water starts running. The motherfucker is washing his fucking hands.

“Alright, no pressure,” Kun squeaks out. He half wants to knee Johnny in the nuts for being so damn annoying, but he figures he can let him have his fun for a little while. Up close like this, his nose nuzzled right against the nape of Johnny’s neck, Kun can smell his cologne. It’s nice, smelling a bit like a warm summer day, sandalwood and a hint of his own citrus-y shampoo. He waits until Johnny turns off the faucet to shove him away when he’s done washing his hands. Kun throws him a towel. “You can come up to the third floor when you’re done being an ass.”

He climbs the staircase up to the third, not waiting for Johnny to follow him. 

This is the first time in god knows how long that someone new is in his room. He keeps his place spotless at all times, so he knows Johnny isn’t going to find anything weird or gross, but it's foreign and a little bit nerve-wracking to see Johnny walk around in his personal space.

Kun sits on the floor next to his bed, playing with the stack of cards he keeps on his side table as he watches Johnny survey his room.

Honestly, Kun’s room is a little bit cluttered with bits and bobs lying around on every possible surface. It’s a given when owning a bookstore that your own room, obviously, will be littered with books too. The left wall of his room is basically fully occupied by his large, oaken bookcase stuffed to the brim with books. He swears he’ll replace it one of these days with one that’s big enough for all his books. His desk is crammed right next to the bookcase, which he usually keeps neat and tidy, but he’s been busy with his accountancy for the past few evenings, so granted it’s a bit of a mess. He knocked over the space-ship travel mug (Jaemin jokingly gave him for his birthday cause he never travels anywhere so he’s been using at as a penholder) when he got ready for work this morning and he hasn’t had the time to tidy it yet. He has a few model planes displayed on top of his piano next to a really old picture of him, Sicheng, Doyoung and Ten in fucking Bangkok.

“You have a lot of these,” Johnny says, picking up one of the many origami airplanes Kun still has laying around from when he and the teens made them for the store. Jeno probably made this particular one Johnny’s holding, because it’s neatly folded. “Did you want to be a pilot?”

“Yeah,” Kun says. “It was my big dream when I was little. I’m here, instead.”

Johnny hums, carefully putting the paper plane back on the piano. He settles next to Kun on the floor, leaning his back against Kun’s bed, shoulder to shoulder. “You still have time, you know. You’re still young.”

“Maybe, but you know. I think I’m happy. Like, with where I am and with where I can go.”

“That’s good.”

“How about you? What did you want to do when you were little?” Kun asks, bumping his arm against Johnny’s.

“Nothing, really.” Johnny’s voice is quiet when he answers. “I didn’t have much of a dream. I still don’t.”

“Nothing at all?”

“If I have to think of something, then perhaps.. owning my own private Island? It would just be me and the waves,” Johnny says, resting his head on Kun’s bed, rubbing his cheek against the cool sheets.

Kun laughs. He can already see Johnny on a deserted island, surfboard in hand, sunglasses perched on his cute nose. Throwing caution to the wind, and probably doing something stupid like surfing naked or some shit. “That sounds great, actually.”

“Yeah, it does but-” Johnny trails off.

“But what?”

“Just- turn your head.”

“Why?”

“Come on, do it for me.”

Kun listens, turning around to see Johnny looking at him, his head resting on his bed, eyes a bit glossed over. He looks a bit tired but comfortable. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Stop being so good-looking then,” Johnny replies without missing a beat.

“Shit, that’s so corny,” Kun says, shoving at Johnny.

Johnny catches his hands, tugging him closer. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it really, really is,” Kun says, falling into Johnny’s embrace.

“Well, you make me corny.” Johnny pulls him closer, practically dragging Kun into his lap. “I’m corny for you.”

“Shut up and kiss me already.” Kun huffs, settling into his new position.

“You just had to say it.”

“Maybe I want you to just fucking do it.”

“Can I?”

Kun does it instead. It’s sloppy and messy and so good. And he might be making a huge mistake right now, making out with his best friends’ friend who he doesn’t even really fucking know and usually Kun isn’t dumb enough to have flings or whatever this might be within his circle of friends, but honestly he isn’t really thinking straight and Johnny is here and amazing and makes him feel secure and wanted and it’s so right. The way Johnny sighs into the kiss, lazily moving against Kun’s lips, tipping his head just so and Kun has to cling onto Johnny’s shirt because he feels like he might be falling despite being seated quite comfortably in Johnny’s lap on the floor. Except he’s not anymore, because Johnny pulls him impossibly close and tugs him up and drops him on his bed like he weighs nothing.

“Is this okay?” Johnny asks, kneeling above Kun on the bed and Kun has to laugh because he already has him panting on his sheets and now he decides to ask?

Kun can only say, “Yeah, just- come here, you idiot” roughly pulling Johnny down with him.

They don’t come back up.

Sometime halfway through the night, Kun wakes up. He feels impossibly warm, probably because of the way Johnny’s got a death grip on his waist, his head smushed a bit uncomfortably into Kun’s neck. He can feel Johnny’s soft breaths puffing rhythmically against his pulse, in and out, in and out. He idly wonders how busy Johnny is in his normal day to day life for him to be able to sleep through Kun’s squirming. (According to Sicheng who was his roommate through all four years of uni, not a day went by without Kun kicking up a storm in his sleep.) Johnny must’ve been dead tired. Kun adjusts their blankets to cover their bare shoulders, carding his fingers through Johnny’s soft brown hair. He wonders if this thing, whatever it is, between them will continue after tonight, or if it’s just another thing that stopped before it could become something more before anything really started. Kun hopes it’s not nothing, hopes this can finally become his something. He usually wishes for another good day at the store, another good day for his friends, another day without any problems, but tonight he can’t help but wish for more.

The next time Kun wakes up it is to Johnny stroking his hair, smoothing down what he knows has to be his extreme bed hair. “Babe, I need to go. Give me your phone.”

“On the night-stand behind you,” Kun murmurs, one eye popping open to look at the time. It’s five fucking a.m. in the morning. “Don’t go yet, it’s so early,” he mumbles, rubbing his sleepy face into his warm and fluffy pillow. He doesn’t want to wake up yet, damnit!

“I gotta,” Johnny sighs, draping himself over Kun, his warm chest plastered against Kun’s back. He nibbles at the weak spot behind Kun’s ear, still soft and warm from sleep. “I’ll text you and call you. You won’t even notice I’m gone,” Johnny whispers, his lips ghosting over his ear.

Kun whines in protest and Johnny doubles down, biting at his ear. “You’re only half-awake and still so lewd for me.”

“Do something about it, you coward.” Kun groans, voice still full of sleep and raspy from last night’s activities.

“I can’t, I don’t have time.”

“Fine, go then.”

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Johnny says, and Kun gets annoyed all over again cause he can hear the laughter in the other’s voice.

“I’m not your baby,” Kun breathes out, grinding back to where he knows is Johnny’s oh-

“Alright, fuck it,” Johnny grumbles, grabbing his hip. Kun can already feel the bruises forming next to the ones Johnny left last night.

**x**

“I heard you’ve met Johnny,” Ten says as he walks through the door of the shop, not even greeting Kun normally, bell ringing loudly.

Kun knew this was going to happen eventually the moment he figured out that Johnny was the friend Ten has been blabbing about for the past few days. Honesty, if Kun had been paying more attention to the million things Ten says on a daily basis, he probably wouldn’t have been so surprised at finding Johnny in his house yesterday. But who has the time really?

He tries not to be annoyed at the way Ten manages to sit right on top of the documents he was reading. Fucker probably did it on purpose anyway. “Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“Fine.”

“You weren’t freaked out?” Ten asks, cocking his head.

“Who wouldn’t be freaked out.”

Ten groans. “Oh god, did you have like, a fangirl moment? He hates it when people do that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I mean yeah, his dick is big but do people really have a moment over it?” Yo, uh what the fuck?

“What?” Ten asks.

“What?” Kun mimics.

“You saw his dick?”

“Yeah, he was naked.”

“Why was he naked?” Ten chokes on his spit and Kun would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s a bit confused.

“You forgot to give him a towel.”

“Ooh! Jesus,” Ten laughs, fixing his bangs that got in his eyes. “I thought you two boned for a sec.”

We did! We boned, like, twice and then again before he had to leave in the morning! Life is fantastic! “Well? What were you talking about then?”

“You’re seriously telling me you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what? I’m sorry, Ten. But you have a lot of friends, I can’t keep track of everyone you talk about.”

“Do me a favour and grab your laptop. Don’t look at me like that just grab it.” Ten says, poking him in his sides. Kun dodges his annoying fingers and does what he’s told as per usual. He pulls up his browser and looks at Ten for further instructions. “Now type in Johnny Suh. Press enter.”

Oh.

Ooooh.

“Oh.” What the fuck.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect you to not know, but you know what of course you wouldn’t know.”

“I really didn’t know.”

“I figured.”

“He’s been in all these?” Kun asks, scrolling through Johnny’s IMDb page. Kun isn’t someone who pays a lot of attention to the entertainment industry, but even he knows (now) that Johnny has an impressive amount of achievements under his belt.

“Yeah, it’s crazy isn’t it. He was so shy in high school and now he’s the highest paid Asian-America actor,” Ten says, pulling up Johnny’s Wikipedia page. “He has two Oscars, Kun. Two. He’s been nominated for even more. He’s been a regular at Cannes for the past four years, dude.”

“That’s crazy.” Kun isn’t sure what a Cannes is but from the way that Ten is practically tearing up talking about it it’s got to be impressive. He isn’t a total idiot, he knows what the Academy Awards are, but honestly, he’s a bit shell-shocked at the fact that despite Johnny’s achievements, he didn’t know him at all. Was he really that clueless?

“I know right, though he’s still the big oaf I’ve known him to be. Except for the fact that he could probably buy his own private island and his face is seen around the entire world. And don’t even get me started on his social circle. It’s literal insanity. He knows Idris Elba, dude. Idris. Fucking. Elba.”

“Wait,” Kun says, trying to process all the information. Who is Idris Elba? And of course the guy is fucking rich, it says here that Johnny got like a couple of millions for his last feature alone. “Why’d you send him to my house if he’s this rich? It says right here that he owns several houses in South-Korea, including a penthouse in Seoul.” A motherfucking penthouse, in fucking Seoul.

“He escaped from his agent and bodyguards. He said he just wanted to relax for a bit without them. They know my address but they didn’t know yours,” Ten shrugs, studying his nails.

“And you don’t think a heads up would’ve been appropriate. I almost killed him with Xiaojun’s lady-bug umbrella, Ten.”

Ten snorts. “That small thing wouldn’t have put a dent in him and you know it.”

“Yeah, but the possibility was there.”

“How were you going to explain that to Xiaojun, you’d make him cry or some shit and I would never forgive you.”

“Stop I didn’t even think about that. I don’t think I could’ve forgiven myself either.”

Ten pats his arm in a fake consolation. “Johnny said you were awesome, though.”

“He did?”

Ten nods and Kun almost wants to smile, but then he sees Ten’s mouth twist into that sick grin of his and he knows that whatever comes out of his mouth next will annoy him to death. “You still don’t talk about Bangkok, huh?”

“Get the fuck out of my store.” Kun pushes Ten off the counter, kicking him out of the shop. He does his best to ignore Ten’s taunting from the window as he watches him make his way to his café and takes his usual place behind the counter.

His phone buzzes.

**Johnny**

_Can I come see you tonight?_

**Kun**

I don’t know, depends.

**Johnny**

_On what?_

**Kun**

On if you were ever planning on telling me you’re famous

**Johnny**

_I’m sorry for not telling you. You didn’t recognize me and I kind of really liked it. Are you upset? _

**Kun**

Nah, it’s fine

**Johnny**

_You sound upset_

_And not fine_

**Kun**

I just want to know

Are you messing with me?

**Johnny**

_I swear I’m not. Can I please see you tonight and explain?_

**Kun**

I’ll wait for you in the shop

**Johnny**

_Alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems all over the place. Its cause I've been all over the place lately lmao!


	3. Chapter 3

In a practice of extreme self-restraint, Kun manages to not google the ever-loving shit out of Oscar-winning movie actor millionaire philanthropist star supreme Johnny Suh after Ten left. For exactly two minutes. He tried, he really did.

It’s a school day, so Kun mans the store on his own until Chenle comes in for his shift. In between sorting out orders and dealing with customers he manages to scroll through pages and pages of interviews, red carpet pictures, watch countless of buzz feed videos (Johnny and puppies, just kill him dead) and consume all things Johnny.

He learns a thing or two about Johnny when he’s not helping customers as fast as he can so they can finally leave him the fuck alone. (He’s almost annoyed at how much business he has this morning. Kun knows he shouldn’t complain, but what the fuck, can he get some privacy here?):

  * Johnny’s been in the industry ever since his college days, having dropped out to pursue a career in acting.
  * He’s a very private person, not much is known about his personal life.
  * He’s a versatile actor, having starred in over 40 films across all genres, but lately, he has been more focused on smaller, independent projects.
  * He looks so incredibly hot in formal wear, what the fuck.
  * As far as Kun can tell, Johnny isn’t out.

So, uh, yeah, that last point. Johnny’s so popular Kun has no doubt that the media would eat this shit up if they were to find out he’s been fucking some Chinese dude in a Seoul suburb. Anyone could’ve seen him last night or even this morning, this isn’t exactly a quiet area. What the hell is Johnny even doing fooling around with him all out in the open? Okay, somewhat in the open. The shutter-blinds he had installed in the store last month are really quite amazing.

Anyway, the point is, why? Kun isn’t silly, he knows that Johnny’s probably just looking for a way to relax while he’s here. But Johnny 1) never told him to stay silent about their thing 2) begged Kun to walk him to the bus stop earlier this morning to catch the first bus to his own (million-dollar) apartment where anyone and their mom could have seen them and 3) is coming over again tonight. He can understand why Johnny didn’t tell him about his star-status, but he honestly doesn’t understand why he wants to keep seeing him, why he picked _him _out of all people he can canoodle with, and why he’s being so goddamn sloppy about it. Where the hell does that put him?

Ugh. Whatever. He’ll figure it out later, but now he absolutely needs to watch this video of Johnny doing aerial yoga. You know, for science.

He’s halfway through the video, marvelling at Johnny’s flexibility despite him being so tall and huge when disaster strikes.

The door opens, bell ringing loudly like a warning for what’s coming next, scaring the ever-loving shit out of him.

Kim fucking Doyoung walks in, grinning as he lets the door fall shut behind him. Now, Kun has to be honest, he loves Doyoung, he really does. But god, he could throttle him any time of the day.

“Doyoung, how can I help you today,” he says, reluctantly closing all of his incriminating tabs, hiding his Netflix watchlist now filled with everything from the Johnny Suh category. The entire existence of a Johnny Suh category is downright frightening and surreal. He’s got a lot of catching up to do.

“I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by and check up on my favorite person,” Doyoung says, approaching the counter, light on his feet despite wearing what looks like the most puffiest puffer-coat Kun’s ever seen in his entire life.

“Sure,” Kun says. He can tell Doyoung’s lying by the way he scrunches his nose and his eyes get a little funny, and, you know, cause of the fact that he works crazy shifts as the manager of a nightclub downtown and thus has no business being awake and at the Antonov at three in the afternoon when he only gets home at 8 am. “What are you really here for?”

“Always so hostile!” Doyoung gasps, hand clutching his heart in fake-indignation. “I was just wondering if you needed anything for the party, ungrateful bitch.”

“Oh fuck,” Kun groans. “I forgot about the party.” Shit. How is he going to act normal in front of all his friends when Johnny is going to be right there. Is he going to have to act like he hasn’t had his back blown out by him? Would Johnny even want to come? “I haven’t thought about it, like, at all. You got any ideas?”

“You’re asking for my opinion? You never ask for my opinion.”

Shit. He fucked up. “What, I can’t?” Kun says, trying to brush it off.

Doyoung crosses his arms, looking Kun over once, twice, a grin slowly forming on his face. “You got laid or something?”

“No, I did not. So, about the party, I don’t know what I should get.”

“Oh? You’re dodging the question.” Doyoung laughs, evilly rubbing his hands together like the evil person he is. “Is it someone I know?”

“You’re being annoying,” Kun huffs.

“I’m always annoying. Now spill or so help me god.”

“There’s nothing to spill.”

“Okay, fine. I’m not going to force you into saying anything you don’t want to say,” Doyoung shrugs. “But I’m glad someone finally fucked some of that stress out of you. You were starting to get on my nerves.”

Ok, rude. “What, when?” Kun squawks. 

“Last week you called me a bitch-baby for eating your chips, like goddamn relax.”

Kun snorts. Right, he did. “Don’t touch my nachos then.”

“Shut up,” Doyoung bites back, doing an awful job at hiding his smile. “Okay, so don’t tell me about it, but if you don’t want anyone else to find out then you better stop grinning like an idiot. You were smiling from ear to ear when I walked in – don’t look so scandalized, yeah I saw you smiling all googly-eyed at your laptop - Ten and Sicheng will have your head for not telling.”

“Alright, whatever, thanks I guess,” Kun sighs. He can’t ever hide anything from him. Out of all his friends, Doyoung is the one who has got him all figured out.

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” Yeah, he’s seeing him again, but he’s puzzled as to what Johnny wants from him.

“Alright. Cool.” Doyoung nods slowly, coming to terms with the information and Kun can tell he’s got a billion of other questions. “If he hurts you in any way I swear to god I’ll break his kneecaps and destroy his property,” Doyoung says finally, smiling wickedly as he holds out his fist.

Kun laughs, smacking Doyoung’s fist away. “Okay, Doie, I’ll hold you onto that.”

So, he kind of needs to confess something. He lied earlier.

Yeah, he did run away from his entire life in China – but not because he couldn’t open a store there or because he didn’t feel fulfilled or some shit. He ran away for all the wrong reasons. It’s a bit cliché honestly, you might’ve heard the story before. His life, kind of, sort of, crumbled apart.

Things like this, they can happen in a minute or even a second. All it takes is a single sentence, really.

“You make me sick, we- us, this entire thing, makes me sick.”

“That’s what he said?” Ten hisses.

“Verbatim.”

“After four fucking years of dating and two fucking years of living together? It’s fucking two thousand and fourteen,” Ten yells into the phone, his tinny voice slightly distorted because Kun’s Wi-Fi is fucking shitty in his bathroom.

“Yeah,” he answers, resting his head against the cool tiles of his floor. His head fucking hurts and his chest fucking aches, face a mess of snot and tears because he hasn’t stopped crying ever since _that_ conversation. 

“I mean how did he imagine your future together? He’s gonna introduce you as his roommate to his family and friends until the day you die? You can’t live your entire fucking life in the closet, Kun. It’ll kill you. You don’t deserve to be with someone who’s perfectly comfortable with hiding you away for the rest of his fucking life. You deserve way more than this dipshit who turns his back on your relationship cause some of his fucking coworkers saw you kissing at your fucking doorstep,” Ten drones on and on and he is fucking livid but Kun is just so sad and empty. He doesn’t really know how to process any of this really and all he can do is sigh and agree.

“Yeah,” he croaks out. Maybe if he’d been more careful, maybe if he’d just waited until they were inside, maybe none of this would’ve–

“Kun, listen to me, really listen okay?” Ten says, voice clear and so, so angry. “You deserve better. Much better.”

“I know,” he sighs, wiping his face with his damp sweater sleeve.

“Do you really?”

“I don’t know.” For the past few months, Kun seriously thought that he was set for life. Yeah, his boyfriend hadn’t come out of the closet yet, but there was no rush. They had a routine, they went on date nights, they had a proper sex life and they’d been talking about adopting a puppy; everything was okay – it was okay.

It was okay. Was that all it was? Okay? For the last four years of his life? “Ten, I can’t. I don’t think I can, like this, here without–”

“Fuck that place, come to Seoul for a while. I could use your help with renovating the café. Clear your head, hang out with your real friends, you know? People who really truly deeply love you even though we all hate your fucking magic tricks. Okay?”

“Okay.” Like that it was settled. He deleted and blocked his ex from his contacts, boxed up all his shit that he wasn’t bringing over to Seoul and put it in storage. It took him two days since that conversation to arrive at Ten’s doorstep, the door swinging open before he even had the chance to ring the doorbell, almost getting crushed to death by the force of Ten’s hug, Doyoung and Sicheng quickly ushering him inside.

It didn’t have to be permanent. Lord knows nothing ever is in this fucking century, but it was a change he desperately needed. Kun didn’t really know if he could go cold turkey on an entire country with a spritz of ghosting the guy you’ve built an entire life with but hey, he was all about finding out. Ghosting has always been his go-to modus operandi when dealing with breakups, except this felt more like he was slicing open his chest, reaching into the dark, red and mushy crevices of his body and prying out whatever love and loyalty he had left for someone who was ashamed of him, ashamed of them_ together._

He didn’t have to leave China forever, but it had to be real, it had to be tangible. He had to be far away from the life he thought he had built up until now because it turned out that there was nothing really to his life except for what Kun thought they had. He had nothing else he could show for the past four years of his life, of _their _life. Nothing he could point towards, nothing he could hold dearly within the palms of his hands and say this is ours, this is what we had. He figures that that’s why it was so easy for him to leave.

Everyone always has a place to go to. A place to return to. A place they call home. Somewhere to lay your heart to rest after an exhausting day, where you can recharge and arm yourself for another day to come. Maybe that home isn’t a place, but rather a person, a song, or maybe you haven’t found it yet, but Kun has.

x

“Kun-ge, should I put these boxes with the- oh! Hey, it’s Johnny-hyung!” Chenle shouts at him, putting down the box full of new additions.

“Hey, Chenle,” Johnny says as he steps insides the store, careful not to bump into the stacks of books they’re sorting through before closing up for the day. “You work here?” he asks, eyes wide, cocking his head ever so slightly at the kid. Kun has to bite back a groan, opting to busy himself with the inventory lists instead of thinking too hard about the way his heart skipped a beat seeing Johnny interact with Chenle.

“Yes! I’m Kun-ge’s best employee.”

“You’re my only employee,” Kun snorts from behind the counter.

“And aren’t I the best?” Chenle beams, running past Johnny to haul in the last boxes at the storefront.

Kun can’t deny the statement.

“Hi,” Johnny says, still standing near the door, looking a little bit out of sorts. He fidgets with the sleeves of his overcoat, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Hello, Johnny,” Kun answers curtly. “Could you bring me that box?”

Johnny smiles shyly, taking the box Chenle discarded and bringing it over to where Kun’s sorting through the new additions at the counter. “Wow, I haven’t read one of these ever since I was in college. I was so into Star Trek.”

“He hasn’t seen Star Trek,” Chenle says, popping his head through the door before running back in. He plops another box on the counter with a big smile, running out again to get the last box. Little traitor.

Johnny gasps. “You haven’t seen Star Trek? I knew something was wrong with you.”

“I swear I’m going to watch it one day,” Kun pouts, handling the books with a little more force than necessary. Everyone’s always up his ass about Star Trek, first Xiaojun and Renjun, then Chenle and now Johnny too?

“That day should’ve been yesterday.”

“I promise I’ll get to it,” Kun replies with a little more bite than he intended.

Johnny puts his hands up in mock-defeat. “Alright, that’s cool, don’t sweat it.” Kun swears he’s going to punch him in his stupid face one day.

“This is the last one, Kun-ge!” Chenle says, hauling the final box inside. He’s quick to slip out of his employee apron, probably eager to get home and have dinner with his parents.

Kun rushes over to help Chenle get into his coat, handing Chenle his heavy school bag. “Be careful on your way back.”

“Mhm!” Chenle beams at him, nodding profusely as he puts on his expensive cap and matching bag. (“Is that kid sponsored by Balenciaga or what the fuck,” Ten had said to him after meeting Chenle for the first time. Kun had no idea what that was supposed to mean, staring blankly at the other. “Your new part-timer is wearing an outfit worth 6 thou, you dingus.” Kun gulped when Ten pulled up the clothes Chenle was wearing with ease, despite their brief meeting. All he could do was shake his head at Ten’s screen as they scrolled through the brand’s website. Maybe it was okay that he didn’t understand fashion, Kun thought, wincing at the price tags.)

“And good luck on your test, you’ll be fine!”

“Thanks! See you tomorrow, Kun-ge, bye hyung!” he shouts, bell ringing loudly when he leaves.

Kun waits for the ringing to subside before locking the door with a click and shutting the blinds.

“So,” Kun trails off, turning around to lean uneasily against the door.

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” Johnny mumbles as he sags against the counter, burrowing his head in his arms.

Kun can’t help but smile a teeny tiny bit at how Johnny’s so cute when he’s nervous. He seriously thought that he was the only one dreading this conversation. Deciding to show a little bit of mercy, Kun takes his place again behind the counter across from where Johnny’s bowed over and hiding. He runs his fingers through Johnny’s soft brown hair and takes his hand, nervously drawing circles on the countertop, in his own. “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought maybe you were playing with me, but then I realized you genuinely didn’t know me,” Johnny says, voice muffled, squeezing Kun’s hand. “You treat me like a normal person, you like me just for being me.”

“Who says I like you?”

Johnny snorts, emerging from his little hide-out with twinkling eyes. He leans forward, knocking down a stack of books but paying it no heed as he whispers against Kun’s ear. “You seemed to like me a _lot_ this morning.”

“Shut up,” Kun stammers, pushing him back. “You’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything.”

Kun pretends to think it over, rubbing his chin as he eyes Johnny once over. He points at his lips, jutting them out just _so_.

Johnny grins, leaning over the counter, this time careful not to knock over the stacks of books, to land a soft peck on Kun’s lips. “Better?” he asks, lips still ghosting over Kun’s, a hint of cherry-scented Chapstick fogging up his mind.

Kun shakes his head and before he can say no, Johnny kisses him again, deeper and longer this time. Johnny’s hand snakes into his hair, tilting his head back ever so slightly, eyelashes fluttering against Kun’s cheeks, and Kun is left absolutely breathless.

“Okay?” Johnny asks, pupils blown wide, panting against the corner of Kun's mouth.

“It’ll have to do.” Kun clears his throat, resisting the urge to rub his lips.

“You know what, you’re a bit annoying,” Johnny says, shaking his head at Kun’s stubbornness.

“The door is right over there, no one is forcing you to stay.”

“I physically can’t bear being away from you.”

“That’s funny because I remember asking you to stay this morning and you were very comfortable with leaving,” Kun retorts.

Johnny pouts. “I had to go to work.”

“Right. So, what the hell is it really that you’re doing here? Are you doing something at Lele’s place? It occurs to me that I literally don’t know anything about you, Johnny Suh.” Kun rushes out in one breath, completely disregarding the Johnny binge he went on earlier today.

“We won’t start filming for another few months, but yeah, we’re busy with planning scenes and figuring out logistics around the neighbourhood,” Johnny says, scratching at his eyebrow. Kun can tell he doesn’t actually want to talk about it. “And we have time, don’t we? We can get to know each other,” Johnny asks.

“I’d like to, yeah, but..” 

“But?” Johnny asks, he sounds tired and sad and Kun doesn’t want to have this conversation anymore.

He walks out from behind the counter, ushering Johnny to the little nook under the stairs. Johnny looks puzzled, but he doesn’t protest, allowing Kun to push him onto the couch. “Sit, take off your shoes.”

Johnny does as he’s told, sitting crossed legged on the couch, waiting for instructions.

Kun opens the cabinet above the nook, fishing out a soft blanket, dropping it into Johnny’s lap. He kicks off his own shoes and plops next to Johnny onto the couch, manhandling him into his arms, Johnny’s back to his chest.

“Comfy?” he asks, hooking his chin over Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny’s hair tickles at his cheek, the soft strands still smelling a bit like Kun’s shampoo.

Johnny leans back into Kun’s embrace, shifting the blankets to make sure that Kun’s properly covered too. “Comfy.”

He settles even deeper into Kun’s chest, sighing as he does so. “Everything about you is so comfortable, but you’re still so full of surprises,” he mumbles, closing his eyes.

“You’re literally the one who turned out to be world-famous, how’s that for a surprise?”

“You can do magic tricks.”

“Who told you that?” Kun asks, poking Johnny’s sides.

“Ten did!” Johnny yelps.

“I don’t even know why I asked,” Kun groans, hiding his face in the soft skin of Johnny’s nape. 

“You’re the cutest person I’ve ever met. I’m currently laying in the arms of the cutest person on this entire planet.”

“You talk too much, you know that? Now go sleep. You need to rest.” It’s not even 10 pm yet, but Kun can tell that Johnny’s two seconds away from falling asleep.

“Thank you, I’m sorry again.”

“That’s alright, I understand, Johnny,” Kun whispers, careful not to move too much as he snakes his hand into Johnny’s. “Come to me whenever you want.”

“Hm?” Johnny breathes out.

“I’ll be here for you.”

x

Kun is surprised at how quickly he gets used to it.

They easily fall into a rhythm, there’s the texting, the occasional phone call when Johnny has more privacy and Kun’s alone in the store. They whisper into their phones, even when no one is near, careful to not be found out, careful not to let anyone else hear their soft words, sweet encouragements, promises of more. It is exhilarating and terrifying and it makes Kun’s head spin, but he can’t help but be who he is. So, he questions everything, anything at all.

He gets used to him and Johnny together, but he isn’t used to lying to his friends. He feels bad about it, especially to Ten, but he doesn’t know what to tell him, doesn’t know what he _can _tell him. If Kun’s being honest, he doesn’t even know what to tell himself. So, he doesn’t, keeps it all locked away instead.

But when it’s just them, in the flesh, across from each other, tangled between the sheets, sitting side by side – when he’s with Johnny he can only focus on his stupid laugh, his stupid hands, his stupid warmth and the softness in his eyes.

(He catches himself thinking of time in two distinct categories: time spent with Johnny and time spent without Johnny. Kun’s seriously fucked).

They don’t do anything remotely interesting, they don’t go out on dates, they don’t even leave the bounded wholes of the Antonov and Kun’s room on the third floor. Between the two of them, they’ve got all they need. They order take-out, they read, they nap, they talk, they laugh until they cry, they tease each other until they end up fighting and then they make out and do it all over again.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know,” Kun calls from his bed, too tired to untangle himself from the sheets.

“I know,” Johnny says, rummaging through the pockets of his coat laying on the floor, looking for his lighter, cigarette already dangling from his lips.

“I don’t like you smoking in here.”

“No worries, I’ll leave then.”

“Wait, don’t actually go,” Kun whines.

“I’m only popping out for a smoke,” Johnny shrugs.

He can’t tell if Johnny’s bluffing, teasing him or mad at him. Or maybe he’s just tired and needs to smoke. “What if someone sees you?”

“You worry too much,” Johnny grins, exclaiming a soft ‘yes!’ when he finally finds his lighter.

“Stay,” Kun says, wincing as he sits up against the headboard. “With me.”

“You sure?” Johnny asks, cutely tilting his head at Kun and he honestly just wants to give him the entire world.

“Yeah, don’t leave.”

It’s quite the sight, Kun decides, Johnny swiping his way through his emails, texting his assistants. He sits at the windowsill, bare-chested, wearing a clean pair of Kun’s boxer shorts that he pulled out of his closet all by himself. (After their second tango in between the sheets, Johnny took it upon himself to commandeer every piece of clothing Kun owns.) His necklace shines in the moonlight, the red tip of his cigarette glowing as it burns at a steady rhythm. Turning his head, Johnny exhales, blowing out the smoke, long neck full of tension as he hangs out of Kun’s window. (Luckily, this part of the house is enclosed by other buildings, hidden for the most part from the main street.) 

He imagines Johnny huddled in his thick, long coat, on set, in Chicago, in Los Angeles, out in Chenle’s backyard, inhaling his cigarette like a life-line, clinging onto that warmth and keeping it inside him for as long as possible. He imagines Johnny only sort of but not at all paying attention to the cinematographer, the director, his assistants, too busy with texting him his usual sweet words, maybe a series of photos he took or even all kinds of filth. Kun still can’t believe this is happening to him, can’t believe Johnny is happening to him.

“Enjoying the view?” Johnny asks, not even turning to look at Kun, still typing away. Smug bastard.

“Not really.” Yes, always.

“That’s not so nice of you.”

“I’m not a nice person,” Kun deadpans.

“Liar. You’re the nicest person I know.”

“You don’t know a lot of nice people, then,” Kun says before his mind catches on and he can stop himself.

“I don’t,” Johnny says without missing a beat. The nonchalance almost got Kun fooled, but he knows his voice by now, knows the quiet admission for what it is. The words hang in the air, for Kun at least, Johnny’s already moved on to answer the next e-mail waiting for him in his inbox.

Kun looks for his boxers somewhere in the sheets, sliding it over his slightly bruised legs. He walks over to Johnny, still frantically tapping away on his phone, blanket draped around him like a cape. He takes Johnny’s phone (Johnny lets him) and puts it aside, stubs out his cigarette (he lets him, again) on the window. He taps Johnny’s back, and he takes the cue, sliding forward on the cushioned windowsill**, **making place for Kun to nestle himself between Johnny and the wall. He winces at the cold of Johnny’s back against his bare chest, wrapping the blanket around the two of them as tightly as possible.

“Do you want your phone back?” Kun whispers into Johnny’s nape, lips ghosting over the bony vertebra, his light brown hair still smelling like Kun’s own shampoo, feeling soft against his cheeks.

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head before snuggling into Kun’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder. The blanket stirs, Johnny searching for his hands underneath, entangling their fingers when he finds them so that they are even more closely hooked together. Like this, Kun has all the stars within his hands. “When did you start smoking?” He breathes the words against the side of Johnny’s neck, nosing at the warm spot under his chin where he can already feel some stubbles growing back. 

Johnny considers the question. “Back in college, I think. I smoked occasionally.” Kun can feel the words rumble in his throat before he speaks them out loud. “Got hooked after my first movie, so about eight years ago. Shit’s pretty stressful you know.”

“I can only imagine,” Kun mumbles against Johnny’s skin. “Are you stressed right now?”

“A little, you make it better though.” He plays with Kun’s fingers under the blankets. “You ever smoke?”

“Once or twice, I didn’t care for it.”

“Want me to stop?”

“I want you to not be stressed out. But don’t smoke in the store. And bring an ashtray next time. Littering is bad even if its just ash,” Kun chastises.

“Okay, I will,” Johnny laughs. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, for not judging I guess. Ten still rides my ass about it, some of my fans too,” Johnny sighs.

“I think you could be doing a lot worse.”

“I did do worse in the past,” Johnny whispers, biting at his lip. “It was harder for me back then, though.”

Kun nudges Johnny’s cheek, squeezing his fingers. “You stopped?”

Johnny squeezes back. “Yeah, I’ve been clean for five years now, except for well you know alcohol and cigs.” 

Kun hums, pecking Johnny on the cheek. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me.”

Johnny turns his head, Kun’s nose bumping into his own. They laugh for a moment, and then they kiss. It is slow, it is tobacco, it is coffee, it is electric hot and it makes Kun’s brain turn into mush as it goes on and on.

He imagines his honey gold eyes full of happiness, no trace of stress, no trace of hardship, only that sweet warmth he has come to associate with Johnny. He wants to see it happen, wants to make it happen. “Come to bed with me, Johnny.”

Johnny leads the way, reluctantly removing himself from their carefully built blanket wrap, tugging Kun onto the bed, right into his arms. They are both warm now, warm through the bed, warm through the blanket, of each other, maybe even the cigarette. Kun doesn’t know but he wants to bask in it forever, he thinks. Johnny, him, the bed, and their spoken truths wrapped around them and unspoken secrets between them.

Right before he drifts off to sleep, he steals a glance at Johnny resting beside him and Kun swears there’s something in the look he gives him, something he has been waiting to see his entire life. But he sleeps.

Kun knows he’s dreaming. Knows it by the fuzzy forms struggling against all his senses to take shape, knows it by how he has to keep chasing after each image, minutes, hours even after they’ve already escaped him.

The smell of coffee, of ink on paper, the taste of the morning dew and the scent of air pollution. The fragile texture of grey and soft honey brown, the colours of sandalwood and tobacco – of Johnny. They swim around him, with him, leave marks on him. Coddling, but not oppressive. Like a blanket. It is comfortable and secure, but it is fleeting. It leaves, but he does not want it to leave yet. It is not yet coffee ink paper blue and grey, it is not yet us, it is not yet ours.

Blearily, Kun opens his eyes. He stares at his ceiling, then his alarm clock (4:51AM), then the moon peeking through his window. He curls into himself, sighing into his blanket. He doesn’t need to look beside him to see that Johnny’s already long gone. His bed is cold.

He doesn’t want to demand more of Johnny, tired enough as he is. This will be enough. It must be enough he tells himself. He almost believes it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew it's been a while! I originally had this entire story done, but I wasn't satisfied with it so I scrapped it all and started over. It took me so long cause I kept making it too sad. Johnkun deserve the world. Thank you all for the sweet words ;;!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese dialogue in italics

In less than 10 days, Kun’s carefully constructed daily routine has been turned upside down topsy-turvy sideways and inside out. Okay, so maybe he’s exaggerating a little bit, but you know what Kun's worked very hard to create a routine and stick to it. Routine’s very important when you’re self-employed.

Kun’s been so diligent with his daily regimen ever since he’s come to Seoul, forcing some normalcy and structure into his fucked life, but then _of course_ Johnny Suh happened.

He used to start his days at 6.45AM, but nowadays that’ll be the second time he’ll be waking up (he’s been waking up in the middle of the night for the past few weeks), his standard alarm clock urging him to start his day. And if that doesn’t do it, the three idiots living with him will manage to wake him up one way or another. He’ll stumble down the stairs from his room on the third and wave off the chorus of ‘Kun-ge g’morning’ as he makes his way down to the kitchen, body sore and bruised in the most delicious ways. He’ll cook a simple breakfast and will start on making lunches too, before he remembers that he isn’t allowed to make lunches anymore. Ten has been urging him to stop making lunches for his housemates because it’ll supposedly turn them into insufferable bums. Kun just wants the kids to stay healthy, but Ten’s word is law in this part of the country. So he’ll reluctantly leave the kitchen, feeling guilty and bad and worried about their health but once he finally hops in the shower he’s already forgotten all about it if he’s being honest. He’ll hear Lucas, Xiaojun and Hendery haphazardly make their lunches and stuff their faces with food, chattering about nothing and everything before they’ll quiet down. Kun will get dressed and then he’ll find them like this, silently doing the dishes, cleaning up the table and tidying up after their meal-prepping. It hasn’t even been a full week of Kun not making their lunches anymore, but the three of them have settled into a proper rhythm. It’s shit like this that makes Kun realize that Ten holds too much power and knowledge in his tiny body. 

More often than not, though, he still has to remind them that they’ll be late if they don’t hurry along. Kun will do his very best to eat his breakfast while ignoring their panicked faces and frantic searching for keys, and shoes and bags and anything else they might need for the day (Lucas specifically, is a complete mess in this regard). So he’ll one-shot his morning coffee and help everyone get their shit together even though he always tells them to be more prepared and organized but Hendery and Lucas just laugh and tell him they’ll ‘be more ready tomorrow for sure!’ Xiaojun has at least the decency to look sheepish about it, that’s why he is Kun’s favourite. Don’t tell Lucas though, he might cry. 

And once they’re all _finally_ out of the door, Kun will totally not run up the stairs to grab his phone from where it has been charging on his nightstand to check if he has any new messages, plopping down on his bed with an ‘oof’.

He opens up Kakaotalk, resolutely ignoring the 139 unread messages in the ‘Bangcocks out’ groupchat (he’ll need at least two cups of coffee in his system before processing their shit) and makes a mental note to ask who’ll be coming over for the party he’s absolutely not prepared for even though it’s in three dreadful days. But that’ll have to wait right now, because Kun can’t stop the smile bubbling on his face or the way his heart races just a little at the two messages waiting for him.

Johnny (7.13 AM)

Babe

Good morning

Kun reads and he physically needs to stop himself from screaming into his mattress like a fucking teenager. 

Kun (7.44 AM)

Morning (.❛ ᴗ ❛ .) What time did you leave last night?

Johnny (7.45 AM)

Around 4 I think? Did I wake you up :( ?

Kun (7.45 AM)

No!! I was just wondering. Busy day?

Johnny (7.46 AM)

Kinda. I don’t think I’ll be able to come over today :(:(:(

Kun (7.46 AM)

Ah, that’s alright. Make sure to eat well today, okay?

Can I call you tonight?

If you have time, of course.

Johnny (7.57 AM)

Sorry!!! I had to look at something ugh

YES please call me tonight ;) I have time at 8

Kun (7.57 AM)

Okay I will (.❛ ᴗ ❛ .)

Good luck today Johnny

Johnny (7.58 AM)

You too babe :)

Kun mumbles some things for no one to hear (not even himself) to whomever is keeping Johnny busy, burrowing his head in his sheets. He was looking forward to seeing Johnny again tonight, despite the fact that they’ve spent almost every night in each others arms since the day they met (8/10 to be exact). Despite Johnny's busy schedule, he's always doing his best to arrive at Kun's doorstep at the end of each day. Kun figures it’s partly Johnny’s fault that he’s getting so greedy. If Johnny wasn’t so cute then maybe he’d be better at coping with not seeing him for a day.

He pouts, throwing his phone across the bed feeling childish and grumpy, watching it bounce once, twice and then clatter against the headboard. He keeps on watching dumbly as it slips in the crevice between his mattress and headboard, groaning when the phone hits the floor and he finally realises what is happening. Kun sluggishly rolls over his perfectly arranged (and freshly washed) bed sheets, cramming his arm in the small gap and shooting a quick prayer in the hopes that his screen didn’t crack because he really can’t afford to get a new one right now. He feels around for the device, startling when his hand touches soft fabric instead of cool aluminium. Reluctantly, he fishes out the offending article wondering idly if he’s been getting sloppy with cleaning his room but oh- It’s Johnny’s shirt.

It’s a bit crumpled and one of the buttons is a bit loose from where they were too impatient last night trying to get it off him as soon as possible. Smiling at the memory, the tip of his ears turning a hot dusty red, Kun smooths down the white fabric. It smells faintly like Johnny’s cologne (sandalwood and bergamot?), the cotton feelings soft and awfully expensive under his fingertips. How did Johnny leave without his shirt? Was he in a rush? Did he steal something from his closet again? Would he mind if Kun fixed the buttons? The questions swim in Kun’s head while he carefully folds the dress-shirt, arranging it on his pillow and giving the starchy fabric a few pats. He fishes out his phone from under his bed, pleased that there are no other messy surprises hiding underneath, and takes a quick picture of the shirt to send to Johnny. With a little extra energy in his steps, Kun thunders down the stairs and makes his way down to the Antonov.

X

Kun knows that he gives off the impression that he's got everything Handled with a capital H. He ticks off all the requirements in order to be categorized as a Responsible and Capable Adult. House, check. Job, check. Social circle, check. Bills and taxes, always paid on time. But truth be told, the only reason why he hasn't run back to his parental home in Fujian to sob into his mom and dad's arms and never let go is because, well, it would break their hearts and he feels that he's already broken them enough throughout the course of his life.

You see, his parents have always been big dreamers, always urging Kun to follow his heart and dare to spread out his wings and fly, whatever the fuck that meant. He's always been kind of uncreative and unimaginative, dreaming has never been something he did with pleasure, because lo and behold he was also born an anxious mess. Except for a boyish aspiration to become a pilot and travel to every nook and cranny in the world, which died down real quick once he got a bit older and realized that planes crashed, Kun can't say he had any real desires or fantasies. So when he enrolled into business school instead of taking a shot at flight academy, his parents were not disappointed per se but Kun could definitely tell they were wondering where they'd gone wrong in their parenting. He’s positive that his parents, god bless them, would never actually be disappointed in him, ever, but they were so happy when he'd told them he'd quit his accountancy job, broke up with his boyfriend they never actually liked and moved to Seoul to live with Ten and Sicheng (who they love) in the span of two days. 

The last time they’d been that proud of him was when he went home for the winter break back in college, hair dyed blonde, lip piercing (he’s since gotten rid of) shining and throbbing, with his boyfriend Doyoung-the-Korean-exchange-student, in tow. Don't even ask about him and Dongyoung, just- just don’t do it. If he concentrates he can still hear his parents’ delighted gasps at his hair, his piercing, his new biceps (Doyoung and him, they met at the campus gym. Don’t ask.) and his boyfriend, in that order. He tries not to dwell on the fact that his parents were more surprised at his hair than his coming out. Go figure.

Yeah, Kun really doesn’t want to go back home to see them, because he knows he'll cry. And if he cries, he’ll have to tell them what’s really been going on these past few years. Then he’ll have to explain how he’s actually a complete fucking mess who has been lying to their faces, or well, into the phone actually because he’s been living away from home ever since college. He doesn’t have the stomach to tell them. 

What would that even be like?

Mom, dad, I’m sorry to say that you’ve raised a coward – an anxious coward at that who, despite hours of therapy for his anxiety and a wonderful childhood, ended up letting a complete and utter dick of a person ruin his self-esteem and identity in the most mundane and unoriginal of ways: by breaking his heart. I didn’t go to Seoul looking for a new adventure, that was just a bullshit story I stuck with, because that was easier to explain than to describe how I get sick to my stomach and break out in hives at even the slightest thought of seeing my ex again, afraid he would say those words again. 

_You make me sick._

Kun forgot if he ever learned his own self-worth, he figures looking at his childhood, that his mom and dad did their best to make him feel secure and confident in his shoes, did their best to find him the help he needed to figure out how to live with anxiety. If he ever had learned, he has to admit that all of it was promptly forgotten somewhere in that time he spent with his ex who, somehow, had him wrapped around his finger under the pretence of being too scared to come out, too afraid of the social repercussions. It had really took a toll on him, lying to everyone around them, having to memorize exactly what they’d said to who and carefully thinking over what he should tell his parents and his friends, knowing they would never approve. But Kun always thought he could understand being afraid, he knew it all too well himself. Maybe that’s why he let their fucked up relationship go on for that long. Until it ended spectacularly. 

It wasn’t until he had unpacked it all with Ten, Sicheng and Doyoung, everything that happened in those years, everything he had never told them, that he realized how fucked up that entire thing had been. Ten had been so angry he’d smoked an entire pack of cigs (Doyoung’s) even though he’d stopped smoking about five years back, before he could even speak again. Sicheng had apologized over and over again for introducing them in the first place, and Doyoung, well. Kun was too afraid to even look at Doyoung, his silence had been enough of a reaction. Kun was little more than a sack of bones when he arrived in Seoul, but they had put him back together and sewed him up with a new sense of self-worth and a belly full of newfound love for the world. It only took them about a year and a half, but Kun counts his wins whenever he can. 

"I like you like this, better than when we were dating, I think," Doyoung had said, not even slurring over the syllables despite having downed twice the amount of wine than the rest of them, fingering through the mess of Kun's hair in his lap. They’d been drinking, just a little, in Kun's newly bought store, dust and unassembled furniture littering the place. Ten and Sicheng passed out already on the only functioning piece of furniture on the premise - a dingy couch-shaped thing they had found on the street they had hauled in for break-times in between prepping for the opening.

Kun snuggled into Doyoung's thigh, ignoring the way his arms were throbbing from screwing bolts and painting walls, the coldness of the dark wooden floorboards feeling nice against his wine-flushed skin. "Like what?"

Doyoung hummed, trying his best to think of an answer after all that wine and not enough food to pad it, and Kun had remembered how much he liked the sound of his voice. "You don't try anymore to be someone you can't be.”

Kun mulled over the answer, not quite understanding and he doesn’t know if it was because of all the wine or because Doyoung didn’t make sense but it must be true. Doyoung never says shit he isn’t sure of, shit he doesn’t mean. "S'that why we broke up, b'cause I tried too hard?"

"You’re the one who broke up with me," Doyoung had laughed, tugging at Kun's hair and it kind of hurt, but his limbs were heavy and he felt sorry so he had let him do it. 

"That was dumb," he breathed out and then an "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I know why you did it."

“You do?” Kun pushed himself up, wincing at his achy muscles, to see Doyoung’s smug face smiling back at him. “I can’t remember.”

“Yup,” Doyoung said, pushing him back down. “I was leaving Beijing remember? Going back home?”

"Right. Exchange and all that." Doyoung had only been in Beijing for a year and they’d only met just before the end of the first semester.

"Right. You broke up with me because you said it wouldn’t work out. That’s all you’d said at the time." Doyoung snorts. They can laugh about it now, but it had taken them a year and about twenty fights to get on speaking terms again and to get to this point in their relationship. More than friends, less than lovers, not quite soulmates, but entangled for life.

"I wasn’t good for you. You deserved more,” Kun said, taking his time to pronounce the words carefully. Doyoung had to understand, he had to understand him. “I couldn’t give it to you. Not even in Beijing, let alone in different countries."

"Kun, you were always enough. You were always just right, but you're even better now." Doyoung flicked him in the head.

Kun yelped, swatting away Doyoung’s fingers before he could do it again." I am?"

"You're _here _in Seoul, laying on the expensive floor of your own bookstore.” Doyoung flicked his head again and Kun just let it happen. Resistance was futile.

"Only took a horrible relationship to get here."

"No, you got yourself here.”

Before Kun could retort, Sicheng groaned loudly from where he was half laying on top of Ten on the couch. "Shut up you sick fucks."

"Go to sleep, Sicheng, they’re having a moment," Ten mumbled and Kun was only a little bit embarrassed knowing that Ten and Sicheng heard their entire conversation.

Half-asleep, Sicheng garbled something wholly unintelligible, maybe something along the lines of _eat dogshit Ten _in Chinese. Doyoung laughed and gently lifted Kun’s head off his lap, laying down next to him on the hardwood. Then he'd drifted off to sleep like he hadn’t shaken Kun to his core less than a minute ago. 

Kun had stared at the high ceiling, his three best friends snoring around him, thinking that if he could just get through this little two-year hump, if he could just pull enough of himself together, then maybe he could go back to China for a little while. See his parents with a genuine smile on his face and show them that he's not a complete fuck up. That he's now only somewhat of a fuck up, but at least one with his own brick and mortar store.

That was two years ago and he still hasn’t been back home. He tried to go back, but he can’t really leave the store to Chenle. When he does have time to close-up shop, his parents are always up to something themselves - travelling the world or on a yoga-painting retreat on a secluded mountain. Luckily they do stop by to visit him in Seoul whenever they can, though, but Chinese air? He can hardly remember how bad it tastes. Kun misses China, but he doesn’t miss the person he used to be when he lived there.

This is what Kun now knows to be true about himself: he likes order, he likes playing flight simulator, he likes cooking, he likes reading anything and everything, he’s starting to like origami, and he likes listening to Jay Chou, and he likes taking walks in the park behind the Antonov, he likes the neighbourhood, and he likes being good enough. He doesn’t like taking risks, but he can. He doesn’t like having anxiety, but he copes. He also doesn’t like half the shit his friends like, but he lets himself be tugged along with whatever fuckery they’re up to, because he loves his friends and he knows they'll have a good time together, they always do. 

His friends like food, and chaos and clubbing and impulse tattoos (that’s how they met Yuta) and saving tiny skittish animals while making friends with any random fuck on the side of the street (that’s how they met Taeyong and Jaehyun) and getting their ears pierced over and over, and speaking in volumes louder than strictly necessary (that’s how they met Taeil who told them to shut the fuck up on the bus) and softcore porn, and fighting, and dancing, and taking business risks (that’s why they all supported Ten and him in their own ventures) - and for some weird and inexplicable reason, they love Kun too. Despite their differences, Kun thanks the cosmos every day for somehow enmeshing their lives together. 

X

Every week some weird shit happens that’ll make Kun shake his head at something or someone. He used to think that his days were sufficiently eventful and full of wonder, but then Johnny stumbled nakedly into his life. It’s been a bit of an adjustment, this new uncertainty in the form of a tall, enigmatic movie star in his carefully curated schedule specifically designed to keep his personal issues at bay.

He's at the Antonov every Monday until Saturday (9 a.m. until 8 p.m.) entertaining Ten and the kids, helping out the occasional customer or sending out orders. After work, he'd either go home or do some shopping or take a walk or say hi to Mrs Liu at the end of the street. He wouldn’t call himself an upstanding neighbour, but he somehow ended up being voted into the neighbourhood association key-committee, or the NAK. (Ten always calls him a fucking narc because of it.) He’d been teased about it by everyone for an entire week when he got inaugurated as an official member. Kun doesn’t know why shit like this happens to him. His Sundays were strictly dedicated to doing chores, running errands all around town and catching up with the complete whirlwinds who he calls his friends. But he has other priorities lately. (Hint: rhymes with Bonny Buh.) 

Even now at the Antonov, on the last day of his workweek, he should really be getting a move on with his accountancy and maybe check up on the kids studying in the nook, and maybe find out where Chenle has gone. But all that is quickly forgotten when his phone buzzes, the sound of an incoming message cutting through Jay Chou’s soothing voice over the speakers of the Antonov. It startles him, but Kun already knows who it's from, ah the joys of personalized notification signals.

Johnny (16:49 PM)

Where did you find my shirt? I was looking for it this morning.

Kun (16:49 PM)

Under my bed.

Did you go out without a shirt?

Johnny (16:50 PM)

Stole one of your sweaters again :O

Smells like you.

[Picture sent]

Kun (16:50 PM)

Johnny…!! I’m at the store anyone could’ve seen.

Johnny (16:50 PM)

You and I both know you’re not that careless

It’s kinda small on me tho

Kun (16:50 PM)

Shut up that’s clearly a normal fit on you.

Johnny (16:51 PM)

Kinda tight around my biceps

You know, with all my rippling muscles 

Kun (16:51 PM)

Wish you would use those rippling muscles to shut up

Johnny (16:52 PM) 

That hurt

Can’t you use your gorgeous muscles to say something sweet to me for once? 

Kun (16:52 PM) 

I miss you a lot and its only been about 13 hours since I’ve last seen you.

It's ridiculous. I know.

Johnny (16:53 PM)

Baby, I think you just killed my brain

Wish I could come over tonight and show you what you do to me 

Kun (16:53 PM) 

Too bad.

_“What's so funny, da-ge?” _Renjun asks, slamming down a stack of magazines on the counter.

Kun startles, bones almost jumping out of his skin. _“What? Oh, no nothing,” _he says, sliding his phone in his pocket.

_“Okay then..” _Renjun trails off, obviously not convinced. He points at the stack._ “So?”_

_“Hm? What?”_

_“Where do I put these?”_

_“Right! Sorry, you can put them upstairs, Renjun,” _Kun stammers, clearing his throat a few times. He doesn’t know why the kid has him so frazzled (it’s got to be the eyes.) _“Wait, why are you doing Chenle’s work? Where is he? And what is Jeno doing?”_

Renjun shushes him, nudging towards the nook. _“Jeno’s meditating, don’t worry about it. Chenle’s out grabbing snacks with Jisung.. which you gave him permission for, like, five minutes ago. Are you okay?”_

_“Oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.”_

_“You asked Lele to bring you a cup of coffee.”_

_“What the hell.”_ Kun squints, whispering to himself thinking about the last ten minutes. Renjun gives him a stern look, putting his finger to his lips, signalling over to Jeno taking a nap, oh sorry _meditating_, in the nook.

_“That’s what I’m thinking,”_ Renjun says, shaking his head. _“You get weird when you’re in love, Kun-ge.”_

_“What?”_ Kun hisses. _“Who says I’m in love?”_

_“Are you not? Chenle swears you’re dating someone. I’m inclined to believe him.”_

_“I, no. No, I’m not.”_

_“U-huh, sure. It’s all fine by me.” _Renjun winks._ “I won’t tell.”_

_“There’s nothing to tell.” _

_“Sure, da-ge. I won't tell anyone about how there’s absolutely nothing to tell.”_

“_I’m going to wake up Jeno because you’re bullying me and I know he won't stand for it,_” Kun threatens.

“_Do it. We’re leaving anyway,_” Renjun smiles wickedly. “Jeno!”

Jeno snores loudly, once, twice, and then his eyes flutter open. “Hmhgn, yea?”

“We've got to leave now if we want to catch that movie, can you pack up our stuff?”

“Oh, crap! You’re right!” Jeno rushes to his feet, quickly packing up their books (Renjun’s books actually, his own never left his schoolbag). “Hyung! Thanks for having us again today.”

He looks on in disbelief as Renjun gives Jeno a gentle smile and then turns around to give Kun a pointed look accompanied by a wiggle of his eyebrows while he hops up the stairs, magazines in tow. Kun is worried about Jeno’s future.

And his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than usual! I hope you guys like it. It all kinda came out of me in a rush because I should actually be studying instead of writing but yall know how life goes sdfjsf. Thank you again for reading and always a huge huge huge thank you for the sweet comments. They really mean a lot to me.


	5. Floor plan Kun's house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this when I couldn't sleep and I thought I'd share how I visualize Kun, Xiaojun, Hendery and Lucas' home :) Blurred is the sq ft. cause I dont even actually know what that means lmfao.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese dialogue in italics.

It's not a busy day in the Antonov, as far as busy days go, but not having Renjun on the premises to help with moving stock while Chenle is out doing god knows what is finally taking its toll on his back and knees. Kun sometimes wonders how the hell he managed the store on his own for so long without any sprightly teenagers to do the heavy lifting. (Do not underestimate the fast decline of your physical health once you hit your twenties.) But then again, Kun was much younger when he set up shop. Maybe he should start joining the others at Jaehyun's gym.

He mulls over the pros and cons of going to the same gym with all his (frightfully healthier) friends as he absentmindedly puts away new astrology books on the upper floor. They've, unsurprisingly, been selling like hotcakes, which Ten had promised him they would when he was ordering new books last month. ("I still don't see how I can justify having astrology books in the store," he'd said upon which Ten had sighed, patting his head placatingly. "It's all the same to us laymen, Kun.") And wasn't that the truth? His regulars hadn't even blinked at the increase in books that were only tangentially related to aviation. Maybe he should be more flexible about these things. 

Speaking of being flexible, maybe he'll join Ten, Sicheng and Yuta in their Pilates classes. It sounds infinitely more manageable than springing for a year-long gym subscription. He'd be forced to watch his friends maintain their hot bods while he'd only be there to not feel like he gets kicked in the lungs every time he goes up the stairs with a box of new additions. On the other hand, Jaehyun did say that he'd give him a sweet discount. Kun does love a good discount. Although maybe he is getting a bit ahead of himself. Maybe he should start off by jogging in the park once in a while. Maybe.

The ring of the shop bell pulls him away from his scary thoughts of jogging and doing cardio. He cranes his neck over the bannister to see Ten walk in, the heavy door of the shop falling close behind him.

"Oh, it's you." He'd hoped it'd be Chenle, his one and only employee who spends a curious amount of time away from the store. Kun supposes he lets the kid get away with too much. But really, he's too adorable to keep inside. "What did you do to Lele?" he calls down to Ten, remembering that Chenle and Jisung were supposed to drop by the café.

"We're teaching the kids how to throw knives, they're doing target practice on Hendery now," Ten says, cheerfully, smiling up at him from below. "But," he continues before Kun gets the chance to start yelling at him, "you should relax because they are actually having cake. Hendery is trying out a new recipe, look I even brought you some." Ten wriggles his eyebrows as he holds up a plate with what looks to be a sponge cake, carefully balanced on what Kun suspects is a nice cup of coffee.

Oh well, fuck the gym.

Kun sorts out the last few books in his hands before storming down the stairs, making grabby hands at the delicious looking cake Ten's carefully manoeuvring on the counter. Hendery's probably one of the clumsiest people he's ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he's got a real knack for baking despite having rocks for hands. It's a pity he's in engineering. The world of desserts needs him. Kun needs him.

Ten shakes his head at him, putting down the cup of coffee on the counter and pushing the plate full of cake to Kun, before hoisting himself up on the counter. Always managing to plant his ass right on top of his ledgers. Kun chooses to ignore him in favour of taking a bite of the deliciously golden cake, moaning at the vanilla bean and cream treat. He refuses to let Ten ruin his cake moment with whatever real reason he has to show up at his doorstep with treats. Ten never brings him coffee _and_ a treat without an ulterior motive.

The last time Ten had personally brought him cake and coffee (a raspberry-chocolate tart to be precise, Kun still dreams of it sometimes) was when he'd been notified that Ten may or may not had crashed Kun's car into a lamp post when he and Sicheng had borrowed it for a weekend away from the city. It's a pity that they came out of it without a single scratch. Kun is only kidding, of course.

"What's wrong?" Kun asks with great reluctance when he's halfway through eating his cake, eyeing Ten from under his lashes with trepidation. He really can't enjoy the treat with Ten on him scrutinizing his every bite, looking at him like he's about to tell him his cat died or something equally distressing.

"Nothing's wrong. Not with me at least," Ten says sweetly, swinging his legs back and forth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kun asks, knowing exactly what Ten means. He's been dreading this conversation, but he knew he couldn't keep getting away with ignoring the group chat and being conveniently busy these past few days. The only reason why he hasn't been cornered into spilling his guts yet is because everyone's been busy with their own things, or so he presumes, because he hasn't actually paid attention to the hundreds of messages his friends shoot off in the group chats.

Ten raises his eyebrow, unamused. "You know what I mean."

"I think I actually don't," he lies, shoving another mound of cake in his mouth and taking a delicate sip of his perfectly brewed coffee to avoid having to talk.

"You're all.. different," Ten says, gesturing at Kun's entire being, narrowly avoiding smacking Kun in the head. "Your vibe is off, man."

"Okay," he huffs, stabbing at the few crumbs of cake left on his plate. "Off how?"

Ten gives him a half-shrug. "Are you swiping again? That Grindr shit is cute and all, but you're not about to find your forever-dick on that app."

"You did not just say forever-dick," Kun chokes out, narrowly avoiding getting cake in his lungs, "and no I'm not back on Grindr. I've just been busy, that's all." He shudders, willing away memories of awful hook-ups and downright unsexy conversations.

"With what?" Ten asks, and Kun barely catches himself from wincing.

"I'm thinking of changing things around or something," Kun mumbles, tapping the wooden counter. It isn't a complete lie, but also not the full truth. He has been thinking about making changes to the store, even before Johnny came along.

"Is business going that well?" Ten asks, cocking his head.

"Actually, it's going that bad." Kun sighs. "I'm thinking of re-branding. Chenle says I need an Instagram, or a cat, and _fun'_ books. He's been begging me for months to let him manage an Instagram account."

"Fucking finally," Ten exclaims, and Kun doesn't know if he should even bother being annoyed at Ten's obvious delight despite his financial peril. "I don't know why you insist on preserving this place in the twentieth century. Go wild, put Dan Brown in the collection."

"I'm not putting Dan fucking Brown anywhere."

"Your loss, big boss," Ten says gleefully, crossing his arms as he laughs. But then he continues. "So, was that all you were planning on telling me, because a little birdie told me that you've been getting nightly visitors."

Kun purses his lips, fighting down his nerves to meet Ten's searching gaze, and his stomach lurches at the hardness hiding behind Ten's worried eyes.

"Xuxi or Hendery?" Xiaojun would never rat him out.

"Both." Ten shrugs.

Figures.

Kun exhales, letting go of a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He contemplates lying, again, but he doesn't have the strength to keep going on like this any longer. "Yeah, okay. They're right," he confesses, rubbing at his eyes. "I've sort of been seeing someone. Kind of. I don't know."

He braces himself for.. well Kun doesn't really know what he's bracing himself for as he watches Ten's big brain process his admission. He sure as shit doesn't expect it when Ten barks out a laugh, the hardness in his eyes quickly replaced by his familiar lethal twinkle. "Is he hot? Oh god, don't tell me its that guy you made out with at Cherry Bomb that last time you went out with us?"

"No." Kun groans at the memory, or what little memory he has of that night. He vividly remembers the splitting headache the next morning, though. "I don't even know that guy's name and I know that you know that."

"So, who is it?" Ten nudges him, scooting closer to where Kun's leaning against the counter. "Do I know him? Is he good in bed? I need details."

"T-That's not really any of your business," Kun sputters, feeling the tips of his ears burn despite knowing that Ten's only messing with him.

"It becomes my business when it's all my employees are talking about. Why are you being so sneaky?" Ten asks, and Kun can hear the hurt carefully concealed beneath layers of Ten's teasing, wonder, and genuine concern. But they've been friends for so long. Kun doesn't miss Ten's sadness at being left in the dark, couldn't miss the way his voice is laced with insecurity.

"It's nothing," Kun croaks out, his throat thick with guilt at making his best friend feel like crap. "It's, I don't know, I think it's just a fling. You know how it goes. It's all good."

"You sound anything but good," Ten says, crossing and re-crossing his arms before he continues, voice soft. "Look, all I want to know is.. Are you okay?"

"It's just- I'm a bit tense lately. This guy.. he is- He helps take the edge off." Kun worries at his lip. "But I don't want this to become a big thing, okay?"

"Alright. But-"

"No, buts! I'm fine," Kun says, cutting Ten off before he can say anything more. "Thank you, though, for your concern," he adds, belatedly.

"I was gonna say that you could bring him over next Monday, but alright," Ten says, not entirely assuaged. He so clearly wants to ask more, but Kun is thankful that Ten lets it go. For now.

Kun frowns. "What's next Monday?"

"You're hosting us for an evening of refreshments and entertainment," Ten says, rolling his eyes.

Kun quirks a brow. "I'm always hosting you fucks for evenings of refreshments and entertainment." That's the curse of having the biggest house in your friend group.

"Yeah, but Johnny's coming over this time, you dick."

Kun blinks at the other, before remembering he has to reply. "Oh, right."

Ten just smiles at him. "Hey, give Johnny a call, will you? He wants to know if you're okay with the whole thing, something about feeling bad for springing this on you. I'll send you his number." He rattles off, grabbing his phone. "You don't actually mind, do you?"

Kun finds that he actually really doesn't mind, despite the crippling guilt and nerves. He does think that it'll be a good time for everyone involved. But especially Ten and Johnny. "I'd like to remind you that I never explicitly consented to This, but yeah, it's fine. I'll ask Doyoung to get the usual, I'll figure out the food- you just make sure to invite everyone."

"Thanks, Boss!" Ten cheers, fishing out his phone from his apron, tapping away to start arranging things.

Kun watches Ten fiddle with his phone, clearly elated and excited at the prospect of getting his friends together - and consequently blowing their minds with the presence of his celebrity friend. He kind of wants to cry at how easy it is to be friends with Ten, how Ten so clearly wants Kun to be okay, even when he keeps fucking up all the time.

"So," he starts, realizing belatedly that there's no reason for him to keep on being an awful friend on top of lying all the damn time. He'll make sure to make it up to him. He'll make it up to everyone. "What's up with you lately? Anything new going on with the gang?"

Ten's gaze moves slowly from his phone to Kun's face. Kun doesn't know what he sees, because something in Ten's face gives, losing some of its edge that Kun knows he caused. He smiles, and this time it's full of Ten's usual special brand of amusement, mischief, and everything good in the world. "Guess who finally got his dick pierced."

-

Its hours later when Kun's busy making dinner that his phone chimes a familiar tune, signalling Johnny’s call. He barely manages to wipe his hands on his apron and pick up before the second ring. "You're such an ass for having Ten ask me to call you."

"Hello to you, too." Johnny laughs, and the sound settles in Kun's chest, filling the little cracks that today's anxieties has brought him with warmth.

"Hi, you'll be there, then?"

"If you're okay with it," Johnny hums.

"You're the guest of honour," he says, puzzled at the uncertainty in Johnny's voice.

"That's not an answer," Johnny says quietly.

"I really want you to come, Johnny," Kun affirms, voice going soft. He waits a second for Johnny to reply, and when it doesn't come, he continues. "Ten's excited."

That gets a groan out of Johnny, and they laugh. "Of course he is. He says I need friends. I think this is him taking direct action."

Kun nods, before remembering that the other, obviously, can't see him. "They're good people," he says, trying to reassure Johnny. "You already know Ten and me, and I think my housemates will be around. He invited everyone; Yuta and Doyoung, Taeyong and Jaehyun, but they aren't sure yet if they can come.. Oh, and Taeil- I've told you about him, right? I'm sure you'll like them..." Kun trails off, snapping his mouth shut when he realizes he's rambling.

His word vomit earns him a weak chuckle from Johnny, barely audible on the other side of the line. "I'm more concerned that they won't like me."

"Why wouldn't they?" Kun frowns. "You're funny, sweet, and the fact that you're friends with Ten will earn you everyone's respect already for putting up with his bullshit."

"Are my ears deceiving me? Are you showering me in compliments?" Johnny gasps in mock disbelief.

"Yes, I was," Kun replies solemnly.

Something clatters on the background, and Kun turns around to see if he dropped anything, before realizing it is coming from Johnny's side. He pauses, hearing Johnny's muffled voice speaking English. He can follow snippets of a conversation, something along the lines of dinner reservations, financial reports and other things he can't catch before Johnny comes back through, sounding even more tired than he did before. "Sorry about that, I've got to get to a dinner meeting."

"That's alright," Kun says, hoping his disappointment doesn't bleed through in his voice. "Call me later?"

"I still have time to talk. The restaurant is across town, so it'll be a little bit of a drive. Not that I'm driving, I have a chauffeur, two actually- anyway. We can talk while I'm on the way. If you'd like, that is," Johnny rushes out and Kun laughs, because this time Johnny's rambling. 

"Yeah, I'd like that," Kun says, feeling a blush blossom on his face. He wedges his phone in between his shoulder and ear, going back to chopping vegetables. "A dinner meeting, huh. Are you prepared?"

"I've got it all in my head. Plus, I'm wearing your sweater for good luck," Johnny says, his smirk evident in the lilt of his voice.

"The yellow one."

"Worried I'll spill food on it?" Johnny teases.

"No," Kun snorts. "Although now that you mention it.. I have seen you wolf down your food on more than one occasion. I was thinking that it might be inappropriate to wear a bright yellow sweater to a dinner meeting. I don't know, maybe that's just me."

"It makes me happy, so I'm gonna wear it," Johnny singsongs in reply.

"Whatever you want you big baby," Kun concedes, smiling.

Johnny's laugh this time is more genuine and carefree, and Kun basks in the sound of it. "How was your day?"

"Chenle's friends came over today when he came in for his shift. I swear Renjun's so scary. He spends too much time around Ten and Sicheng."

"I haven't even met the kid, but I'm already afraid."

"You should be." Kun laughs, smiling at the thought of Renjun and Johnny meeting one day, before remembering that's probably never going to happen. "How are you holding up?"

Johnny mulls over the question, humming as he does so. "Tiring, but good, mostly. I think we'll be ready to start pre-production in a month."

"I have no idea what that means," Kun confesses. "But it sounds like you had a productive day. Rest well later, okay?"

"I'll try."

Kun's about to lecture Johnny on the importance of resting up well right when Xiaojun storms into the kitchen, looking frantic, looking under the table and in cabinets before throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "_Kun-ge, do you know where my- oh you're on the phone. Sorry, never mind_."

"Hold on," Kun says into the phone before turning back to where Xiaojun's trying to look over the fridge. "_Don't worry, just talking to a friend. What do you need?_"

Xiaojun turns to him, fidgeting with his oversized shirt sleeves. "_D'you know where I put my notebook? The new one we bought a little while ago?_"

Kun thinks it over for a second, remembering that it was only a few nights ago that he saw Xiaojun strum his guitar on the couch, the notebook in question balanced precariously on his knees. "_Check the couch._"

''_Kay!_" Xiaojun says as he shoots off towards the living room.

Kun cranes his neck to see into the living room. "_Did you find it?_"

"_No, I swear it's not- oh wait I got it! Thanks, ge!_" He waves his notebook at Kun, running back upstairs to no doubt work on his music.

"_No problem!_" Kun shouts back, but he's sure that the other doesn't hear him anymore. He turns back to his phone. "Hi, sorry, I'm back."

It takes a moment for Johnny to reply. "Just talking to a friend, huh."

Kun pauses, feeling his heart drop. "You understood that?"

"A little bit." Johnny's voice sounds distant.

Of, course Johnny Suh knows Chinese. He fingers at the chopped carrots on his cutting board, worrying at his lip. "I mean.. Aren't we?"

"Yes, I suppose so. You're right," Johnny says. Kun can't get a feel for what the other is thinking.

He checks the time, wincing when he realizes how late it's getting. He clears his throat, "Look, I have to go, you know, cook and stuff. Everyone is going to start piling into the kitchen too."

It's faint, but Kun can hear Johnny sigh on the other side of the line. “Right, okay."

"Goodbye, Johnny," he whispers into the phone.

"Bye, Kun," Johnny says, ending the call.

Kun carefully puts his phone down on the counter, plugging it back into the charger. He turns back to his cutting board, regarding the perfectly julienned vegetables. He still needs to cut the meat for the stir-fry, and the rice needs to be washed and cooked. But first, he must finish julienning the vegetables. He grabs his knife and makes it through two carrots before his knife clatters on the kitchen counter, sending strips of carrot flying all over. He sighs at the mess he's made of the veggies. And his life.

He washes his hands, wipes them on his apron and grabs his phone to put on some music. Taking a deep breath in tune with the rhythm of the soft piano tunes, Kun takes his knife in his hands again, feels the weight of it laying in his palm. Steady, sturdy, reliable. This knife has never failed him. It works like a charm. He shouldn't throw it around just because he's upset that he keeps messing things with everyone he cares about. He shouldn't throw it around just because he can't ever do what's right. But there's nothing he can do right now. Dinner must be made, and he's afraid that he'll only make things worse. He goes back to chopping vegetables.

Xiaojun and Hendery file into the kitchen not long after he's set the rice cooker and the curry is bubbling away on the stove. They quickly note his sullen mood, and it makes Kun feel like crap for bringing his shitty mood into their business, but he's grateful when they join him at the dinner table and start telling him stories of customers and fellow students. ("_Kun-ge, Hendery and Xuxi made me drink wasabi!_" "_It was Ten's idea, I swear!_") The ridiculousness of their stories making Kun's belly ache and his cheeks warm with laughter, barely able to plate up their food because his cheeks hurt.

And when they're almost done eating, Lucas finally stumbles in, done at last with his shift at the café. Xiaojun runs off to make a plate for Xuxi while he gets cleaned up, and they all decide to linger around, sitting with him while he practically inhales his dinner. "_Did you guys tell Kun-ge about Dejun's wasabi latte?_" Lucas manages to say in between huge bites of curry, setting off another round of laughter.

Kun's full from their banter, full of pride helping Xiaojun with his music, full of admiration watching Hendery study after working all morning and going to classes all day, and full of appreciation when Lucas drags him in front of the television to watch Crayon Shin-chan together. And then he finally goes to sleep, tiredly climbing up the stairs to his room, throwing himself on his bed. He's greeted by the intimately familiar smell of bergamot and sandalwood. He pops open an eye to see Johnny's forgotten shirt laying inches from his face. He sighs, rolling off the bed and grabs the offending article, burying it somewhere deep in his closet. He crawls back under his sheets with a knot in his stomach, resolutely ignoring the lingering smell of Johnny's cologne on his pillow and the distinct lack of good night messages on his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> / casually pops in six months later to update this /
> 
> Would yall believe me when I say that I've literally got tens of thousands of words dedicated to this fic and this world just laying around. I never update, because I'm never satisfied with what I write. But I love these characters and this world so much, and I really want to share them with you. (And hopefully keep on sharing them TT) So, sorry if the updates are way too slow for your liking, I feel the same way. But if its any consolation, I have been working on it pretty much non-stop slkfjs. 
> 
> I really really wanna thank you all for the sweet messages, they really truly mean the world to me. I hope I get the courage to upload the rest of this fic soon cuz I'm neck-deep into a DoYu spin-off and I have many many more in the works. I hope that yall are staying safe ♥♥♥♥


	7. Chapter 7

Kun blinks at the dark, one eye at a time, wondering why the fuck he just woke up until he registers the incessant noise coming from beneath his pillow. He doesn't understand what he's hearing until it stops, and then starts up again at full blast. It is his phone, of course, ringing loudly. With a bleary glance at his alarm clock, he realizes that its ringing fucking loudly at fucking two in the morning. Something is either very wrong, or someone is about to receive the ass-whooping of the century.

He blindly searches for his phone, dragging it to his ear once he gets a good grip on it, lest it fall on his face as it has many times in the past. He means to say 'hello,' but what comes out of his mouth instead is a throaty "Nngh?"

"Can I see you?" Johnny's voice rings out sounding mildly amused, but mostly shaky as if nervous.

The question makes Kun sit up, cursing at himself for not recognizing Johnny's ring tone as he flicks on the light on his bedside table.

"Now?" he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes to force himself awake.

"Please?" Johnny asks, the word spoken so faintly that he almost misses it in the haze of his sleep-muddled mind.

"Yeah," Kun says, but it comes out much softer and unsure than he intended, so he coughs and tries again. "Yes, of course."

His nerves ease up just a tinge when he hears Johnny let out a relieved breath on the other line. "I'm outside."

Kun hangs up instead of answering, shooting out of the tangle of his sheets in a hurry. He throws open his closet and slides on the first pair of jeans he finds over his bare legs, barely catching himself from tripping. He keeps on the sweater he slept in and pockets his phone before tiptoeing down the stairs, shaking his head at Lucas' loud snores audible from the hall. Once he gets to the doorway, he jams his feet in his converses and grabs his keys from their fish-shaped key holder, absently noting that Hendery's keys are missing. He must be out too.

He sneaks out, careful to let the door fall silently behind him and takes his time getting down the stairs. He's still fuzzy from sleep, and his nerves are bubbling away in his stomach as it turns itself into knots. Kun's already prone to clumsy accidents, the last thing he wants is to tumble down the stairs while he's still busy waking up.

Kun can smell Johnny before he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the familiar scent of his cigarettes wafting up the short staircase. He finds the other leaning against the door of the Antonov, cigarette dangling from his lips and staring at something in the distance as he waits. Johnny looks tired and cold, only wearing Kun's own yellow sweater and a leather jacket on top of ripped jeans, but his overworked state isn't new. What is new, though, is the jittery tapping of his boot against the pavement and the dejected furrow of his brows. Kun tries to push away the voice in his head telling him that he's the one to blame for it. It's not entirely successful.

His sneakers squeak against the dewy concrete of the stairs, the sound startling Johnny from his thoughts, making him turn to look up at him.

"Hi," Kun says, hovering on the last step and nervously cramming his hands in the front pocket of his sweater. He doesn't know if he should come closer, doesn't know if he has ruined things between them.

Johnny puts out his cigarette with the bottom of his boot, disposing of the little stub in the portable ashtray Kun got him within days of their budding rendezvous. He kicks off from the wall, coming to stand in front of Kun in the small opening of the stairway. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay." Kun shrugs, noting the hoarseness in Johnny's voice. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Johnny bows his head and kicks at a stray pebble, jerking when it bounces off a step and back next to his boot. Kun waits, fiddling with his fingers inside his sweater pocket as he watches Johnny sigh, and then run a hand through his already unruly hair.

"Can I-," Johnny starts, looking up at Kun and holding out his hand. He takes it, letting Johnny usher him down the last step. "I would like to take you somewhere. Will you come with me?"

"Right now?" he asks, but he already knows that it doesn't matter. He'd go wherever and whenever Johnny wants him, as long as they're together.

Johnny only nods, playing with Kun's fingers.

"I have a neighbourhood committee lunch meeting at noon," Kun muses, cocking his head as he thinks over the rest of his Sunday schedule. But other than some much needed grocery shopping and a few other errands, he should be free for the day.

"That's not a no," Johnny says slowly, voice full of hope.

"No. Not a no. What I mean- Yeah. Yes. Take me wherever you want," Kun rambles, stumbling over his words, flustered at Johnny's blatant need for him. But it's worth it for the way Johnny's eyes crinkle when he finally smiles at him, worth it for the way he pulls him in by the hip, gently kissing the rest of his words from his mouth.

"Thank you," Johnny breathes against his neck, holding him close.

Kun hums in reply, hooking his chin over Johnny's shoulder. He closes his eyes and lets his body press into Johnny's, basking in the familiar scent of his soap and something entirely unique to the other. Kun thinks he could fall asleep standing like this, safe and warm in Johnny's embrace. He almost succumbs to the sleep tugging at him at the back of his mind, but Johnny's arms tighten around his waist and bring him back.

"Hold on, I've gotta.." Johnny trails off, but he doesn't pull away, even as he tries to fish his phone from his pocket. Kun faintly registers Johnny's fingers tapping along something on his phone, and before long Johnny's warm hands return, making him shiver where he is stroking his back. "I had to send a message," he explains. But honestly, Kun's too content in the glow of Johnny's heat and spice to think much of it.

One text and not even five minutes later, two SUVs pull up at the curb. Kun almost whines when Johnny lets go of him, both ignoring the little dab of drool on Johnny's shoulder. He looks on dazedly as a big burly man exits the first car, giving them a small wave before he slips into the passenger’s seat in the second car. The lady at the steering wheel throws them a peace sign, and then they drive off.

Kun's about to ask what's going on, but Johnny takes him by the hand before he can, ushering them towards the remaining car. Johnny holds the door open for Kun, and he inelegantly crawls inside. He buckles up and yawns, watching Johnny walk around to the driver's seat.

Johnny plops behind the steering wheel and buckles up. "Tommy and Liv are my bodyguards," he explains, and just like that, they're off.

"Are they always around?" Kun asks, not so subtly eyeing the way Johnny handles the steering wheel. He's a one-handed kind of guy, the other resting on his thigh. Kun is torn between telling Johnny to please, please, please drive with two hands on the steering wheel like a responsible person, but he also kind of wants to take Johnny's hand in his own. Instead, he opts to shut his mouth and suffer in silence.

"Yeah, pretty much," Johnny answers, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Even when you're with me?"

The question makes Johnny pause, and Kun swears he sees a blush form across his cheeks. "Actually, I, uh, I bought them a place near you. So, they, you know, don't have to wait around in the car or drive across town and them come back again to pick me up."

"You're kidding," Kun says, incredulous, but he knows Johnny's telling the truth by the way he chuckles and sheepishly rubs at his neck. "You're insane."

"It's better than having them drive all the way to my apartment if we're working in your neighbourhood anyway. They tore me a new one that first night when I disappeared on them. I figured why not make it easier on all of us," Johnny explains like it isn't a big deal.

Remembering Johnny's net worth, Kun supposes it really isn't all that crazy for him.

"Is that where you sleep when you're not with me?" Kun asks as they get on the highway. Watching the city fly by, he idly wonders where they're going. Despite his tiredness and worry, Kun finds that he doesn't actually care where they’re heading, or for what reason.

"Come to think of it.. I haven't been back to my apartment, nor to the new place. I bought it for Liv and Tom." He shoots Kun a quick smile, suddenly giddy. "They're married, you know. They had their wedding last year in L.A. It was magical."

"Really? Then where do you go if you're not with me?" Kun asks, smiling back even though Johnny's turned his eyes to the road already. It's sweet that Johnny seems to be close with his bodyguards, but Kun can't help but balk at the thought that Johnny bought a house just like that. And that he has bodyguards. Two of them. Who were at his doorstep in five minutes flat. At two in the morning.

Kun needs to lie down and process™.

"I'm usually on a job when I'm not with you. I sleep whenever I can," Johnny answers with a frightful ease.

Kun doesn't know what to say to that revelation, his head spinning at the things that Johnny has kept away from him. "Where are we going?" he asks instead, biting back a yawn.

"Sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there," Johnny says, and his voice is so full of fondness that even Kun's malfunctioning brain is capable of registering it.

Kun wants to stay awake. He wants to take it in, Johnny in an unfamiliar setting, somewhere that's not his own store or his room. He still kind of can't believe that Johnny's driving him somewhere. Johnny in the wild. Together, with him. But he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. He tries to shake away the sleep, but then Johnny's free hand slides over his thigh, gripping his own and smoothing down his hand, balled up in a fist. He feels Johnny count each of his knuckles, over and over, like each tap is meant to mimic the touch of his lips. Kun lets the warmth of Johnny's hand coax him to sleep.

They're pulled up onto the driveway of a cosy looking cottage when he wakes, comfortably propped up against the car door.

"You're drooling," Johnny laughs, handing him a tissue from the dashboard.

Kun yawns and takes it, not even bothering to grace Johnny with a defence. It was a good nap, okay.

Johnny gets out of the car and Kun takes a moment to really wake up. He looks around, only to find that apart from the small dark green painted house, there's nothing else but tall grass in sight. He has the feeling that they're not in Seoul anymore.

Johnny's waiting for him at the door, wearing a goofy but sleepy grin that Kun really wants to kiss away, so he rushes over to do just that. Johnny catches him easily in his arms, matching Kun's enthusiasm as they kiss, both feeling unsteady but thrilled being together out in the open. Johnny keys them inside once Kun lets him go, immediately going for the security system when the door falls shut behind them. 

Its pleasantly warm inside, though sparsely decorated, Kun notes as he toes off his converses. It looks hardly lived in, but the place nonetheless carries that distinct Johnny smell.

"I want to bottle it all up," Kun mumbles to himself, taking in the fireplace nestled in the open living room, the adjoining kitchen and to the side of the door, a hallway going god knows where.

"What was that?" Johnny asks, nuzzling him from behind once he's shrugged off his jacket and zipped out of his boots.

"Nothing," Kun says, happily leaning into the touch. But then his eyes catch the alcove on the far side of the room. He blinks. "Is that a hammock?"

Johnny laughs, nudging him forward. "Go on, I'll join you in a minute. I'm going to take a quick shower."

Kun nods absentmindedly, already making a beeline to the biggest hammock he's ever seen in his entire life. And that says something, considering his new-age parents owned many a hammock in many a size. He climbs in, marvelling at how he feels right at home even though it must have been years since he's last hung out and about. He burrows into the soft fabric, and later on he'll be embarrassed at how fast he slips away into a pleasant sleep.

He doesn't know how long he's been out of it when he wakes up again for the third time that night. But this time, he is pleased when he wakes up to Johnny climbing on top and over him, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers.

"You're heavy," Kun says, voice sleep gruff. He can't control the whine he lets out when Johnny starts to move away, his arm shooting out to pull him right back down. "Wait, don't actually go."

"You're bossy when you're tired," Johnny mumbles against his cheek with a laugh, minty-fresh breath dancing across his sensitive sleep warmed skin.

Kun grins, adjusting his position so they're facing each other. He scoots closer, burrowing his face in Johnny's bare chest, smelling like an unfamiliar, but delicious soapy scent.

"Why'd you really take me here?" he asks eventually, before he falls asleep again, mouthing the words into Johnny's collarbone, smiling when it makes him shiver.

"I'm sorry about today, on the phone," Johnny says, voice low, nestling closer. "It was unfair to put you in that position. I shouldn't have."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have hung up like that," Kun whispers, grateful for their closeness so he doesn't have to look Johnny directly in the eye. "We both know that you weren't wrong."

"You weren't wrong either," Johnny quips.

"Yeah, but friends don't do things like this with each other last time I checked," Kun manages to joke.

Johnny snorts into Kun's hair, and they laugh, the hammock rocking ever so slightly.

"Kun," Johnny sighs, "We really need to talk about us. About what we're doing."

"I know," Kun croaks out, hiding his face.

"What are we doing?" Johnny mumbles.

"I don't know," Kun admits. "But I know that I don't want it to stop."

"Some people spend their whole lives together," Johnny says, letting out a shaky breath. "I want to try that with you." 

Startled, Kun looks up at that, searching Johnny's eyes. "You've only known me for eleven days."

"And yet, no one else knows me like you do," Johnny says sadly, and the admission makes Kun's heart jump to his throat. "Do you remember that night we met?"

"Yeah, of course, I remember," Kun replies, voice barely more than a breath.

"You gave me something that I haven't had in over a decade. You gave me the chance to be myself, without any expectations. You pulled me in when I began to pull away from myself," Johnny says, giving Kun a soft lopsided smile. He continues, eyes sparkling. "And you work so hard, and you're so kind. I don't think there's anything you wouldn't do to help people if they needed you." 

"You make it sound like those are hard things to do. There are so many helpful people. There are so many hardworking people. And I bet that there are people out there who can make you feel all those things too," Kun rebuts, and as soon as he says it he wishes he could take it all back. It came out automatically, like a programmed response against any and all kind words. 

Kun expects Johnny to let him go, to frown, to realize that he's right. Instead, Johnny shakes his head and lays his palm, always so warm, gently on his cheek. 

"No one else makes me feel like you do, Kun. I can't let that go. I can't let you go." Carefully, Johnny's thumb skirts beneath his eye, tickling his eyelashes. "Will you go out with me if you feel this way too, even a little bit? Will you be with me?" 

Kun turns his face into the touch, closing his eyes to rush out his next words before he can bite them down. "All I can think of lately is you. I worry about you, I worry about what you're doing, if you're tired, if you're eating. I spend so much time with you, but I always want more. I want more of you and it scares me, Johnny." 

"Why does it scare you?" Johnny asks, fingertips padding over Kun's eyelids.

"Because you're you and I am, inevitably, me," Kun whispers, feeling proud of himself for not bursting out into the sob he can feel pressing against his lungs and chest. 

"I need you. No one else, but you," Johnny says. The intensity of his voice makes Kun open his eyes again, meeting Johnny's steady gaze. It is so full of conviction and softness that maybe, just a little bit, Kun starts to believe it too.

Kun swallows, voice hoarse. "What if we do start a relationship? You're not out yet." 

"I'm not, but I want to. I feel like I finally can," Johnny says, and then his brows furrow. Kun reaches out to smooth them down. Johnny grabs his hand, kissing his fingers when they're done with their little mission. "I know I'm asking a lot. I work an unconventional job at awful hours and that's not even the worst part. But can we try? Will you try this with me?"

"It's not that I don't want to be with you. I need to know that you're sure. That you're not going to change your mind about being out. I need to know that you won't get angry if I kiss you in public. I don't want to force you into anything you're not ready to do yet. But I can't be in an actual relationship where I have to hide a part of me. I can't do that again," Kun manages to say in one breath. 

"Again?" Johnny asks, eyes so full of worry that Kun has to look away. 

"When I told you about my bad break up, I meant bad as in really bad. Like, harmful bad. Like, I haven't been able to romantically connect with anyone after in fear of getting hurt again bad. You're uh, you're the first since then." 

"I'm sorry. You never deserved that," Johnny says, squeezing him tight. 

"It was for the better," Kun shrugs with a nonchalance he isn't feeling at all, but he needs to tell Johnny, he needs to let him know how important this is. "But that's why you really need to think about this. I know that's not the answer you want, but it's the only answer I can give you right now. Please, don't be upset."

"I'm not upset, at all. I understand," Johnny says, emphasising each word with a quick peck on Kun's ruddy lips. "I'll really think it through for both of our sakes. I just want you to know that what we have, whatever this is, it's the best thing that's ever happened to me," Johnny beams at him in the low, low light. 

Kun has to shut his eyes at the words before he makes things awkward by breaking down in Johnny's freaking hammock. He collects himself, swallowing down all his uncertainty, trying to focus on the giddiness he's feeling. He opens his eyes again to Johnny's stupid grin, looking at him with so much devotion and tenderness that he can't help but whimper. He reaches up and Johnny leans down to meet him for a messy kiss, open-mouthed and full of want. Johnny moans into the kiss and Kun smiles, pressing in harder, tilting Johnny's head to deepen their angle, hoping that it'll convey just how thankful he is to be heard and held instead of pushed away. 

Johnny is the first to break away. "Will you think about something for me, too?" he asks, planting a wet kiss on Kun's nose. 

Kun scrunches his nose and nods, wiping his nose on Johnny's skin. 

"I know that you don't know much about my career, which is fine and a bit hilarious. But you should think about if that's something you want to get involved in. The lifestyle can be brutal, and I don't know how it'll be for us if we do this. I have no experience, but my legal team is amazing," Johnny says in a hushed voice. "And I'll fight for us, for our privacy, and for whatever you need."

"You're really, really famous, huh." Kun grimaces.

Johnny laughs. "Yeah, a little bit."

"I'll think about it, for us," Kun says, with a newfound determination.

Johnny mumbles a ‘thanks’ in Kun’s hair, and they’re content.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Johnny says eventually, as he climbs out of the hammock, barely catching himself from falling over.

"I wanna stay in here," Kun grumbles.

"You're going to regret it in the morning."

"Fine," Kun says, tucking in and rolling out of the hammock in a well-practiced move.

"You've got hammock experience?" Johnny asks, eyebrows raised. "It took me ages to roll out without critically hurting myself," he says, pouting when Kun barks out a laugh.

"You don't even know half of it," Kun smirks, elbowing Johnny in the ribs. "Now show me where the magic happens in this house."

Kun follows Johnny into the only hallway, walking in the door on the left. There's a huge bed and a closet, but not much else except for what's surely an expensive rug and a wall lined up with black-out curtains on the far side of the room. 

"Need pyjamas?" Johnny asks, and Kun shakes his head.

Johnny unceremoniously dives into the bed as Kun strips out of his sweater and jeans, discarding them on the floor to be dealt with at a later moment. He slides in next to Johnny, throwing his arms across his hip, pressing their bodies together: chest to back, legs tangled in a mess of limbs.

Kun runs his hand across Johnny's stomach, and Johnny half-heartedly swats it away, giggling into his pillow at the sensation.

"I'm really glad you came for me tonight," Kun whispers against the soft hairs at the base of Johnny's neck.

"Thank you for coming with me," Johnny sighs contentedly, wriggling even closer into Kun's chest.

Kun can immediately tell when Johnny falls asleep, the perpetual tension in his shoulders ease up, his breath evens out and he begins to heat up like a furnace.

He lets himself take it in, lets himself catalogue this new feeling of elation and contentment sink into his skin as he presses his lips to Johnny's nape. The other doesn't stir, instead letting out a pleased huff, setting off a whole new emotional cocktail of bliss and longing and hope in Kun. He smiles and it hits him, then, that he is in love with John Suh. He might have been head over heels all along. Before he can panic, though, his tiredness overtakes him, and he finds himself falling into a serene and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moral of the story: communicate with the people you care for. Especially if you're a lovesick fool named kun and/or johnny
> 
> Johnny's cottage is like that meme of an empty room with one chair and a tv and the text goes 'guys live like this and see no problem.' lmaoo its sort of distressing, but hammocks are cool. 
> 
> I hope yall like the chapter TT, but most of all I hope yall are staying safe :D


	8. Chapter 8

Kun wakes up in stages, his conscious mind lapping at the back of his head beckoning him to open his eyes and note the hand running up and down his back in a steady rhythm. He sighs at the touch, turning his face into the warmth of the pillow, canting his hips into the caress in a drowsy movement. He settles back against the warm body lying next to him, hiding his smile in the pillow when Johnny tugs him closer, his warm hand skirting dangerously low on Kun’s belly. Content in his new position, Kun is ready to fall right back asleep, chasing after the little thread of lingering dreamscape laying heavy on his eyelids. He is so close, so so close- until he hears a harsh click followed by a low whirr.

“What’s that sound?” Kun mumbles, more than slightly annoyed at the disturbance.

“Curtains opening,” Johnny answers lazily, mouthing at his bare shoulder, making Kun shudder and _fuck _of course this motherfucker has automatic timed curtains.

Kun groans, sluggishly turning over to bury his face in Johnny’s chest, seeking refuge from the harsh light battering against his eyelids and resolutely ignoring Johnny’s laughter puffing at his ear. He’ll deal with that smug bastard later.

But, of course, Johnny has other plans.

“Hey sleepyhead, did you rest well?” Johnny asks, whispering the words in the crown of Kun’s head.

It takes a moment for Kun to process the words, a little too focused on the tickling sensation of Johnny’s lips moving against his hair, a little too drowsy to realise Johnny’s actually talking to him.

“I was until you woke me up. Again.” Kun retorts when he finally finds his words. He nips at Johnny’s smooth, sleep-warm skin, hoping he’ll leave behind little marks even though he’s not really supposed to. But Johnny’s never begrudged him for it, has never begrudged him for anything. ”And you?”

Johnny shivers, goose-bumps forming across his chest. “With you here, always.”

“Sappy.” Kun snorts, running his fingers along Johnny’s pronounced collarbones. He’ll have to pay more attention to the other’s eating habits. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for waking me up.”

“Wasn’t counting on it.” Johnny laughs, catching Kun’s hand in his own. “What do you want to do today?”

“First we sleep some more. You’re free until five, right?” Kun cranes his neck, reaching to see over Johnny’s shoulder. He squints at the undoubtedly expensive alarm clock on the side table, frowning at the time he sees displayed in a red hot hue. Mentally, Kun throws the clock the finger and all other fingers in the goddamn world. It’s just after seven in the morning and he can’t believe that he’s awake this early on his only free day, too used to sleeping in and enjoying a lazy-ish Sunday.

He tips his head back, looking up to see Johnny distracted, his eyes locked on where their hands are laying linked between them. Oh well. Kun figures that he can’t complain, especially considering that the alternative would’ve been to wake up alone at home. He sighs, hooking his leg over Johnny’s hip. “I’ve missed this. All this sleeping around and this is only our second morning together.”

“I’ve missed it too.” Johnny hums in agreement, shuffling closer. “Although, the adrenaline rush I get every time I sneak out of your house in the morning is unparalleled. It’s kind of addictive,” he jokes, laughing at the scandalized frown on Kun’s face.

“Your schedule, please, you clown.”

“I have a call I need to take at eight. I should be free after that, though, at least until the afternoon. You can snooze a little more.”

“Can’t you do that in bed?” Kun asks.

“I guess I can,” Johnny considers. “If you don’t dismember me for talking while you’re trying to sleep.”

“I promise I’ll keep every part of your body intact,” Kun says, holding up his free hand in a promise. “Stay.”

“Okay,” Johnny agrees easily, smiling slightly.

“Good,” Kun says, smushing his face in the crook of Johnny's neck, feeling the rumble of his throaty laughter.

They’re wrapped up together in a cocoon of limbs and blankets, velvety skin against velvety skin, not quite awake but also not quite asleep, balancing on the precipice of slumber. Kun thinks that Johnny has ruined sleep for him forever, nothing will ever top their naps.

A phone chimes and Johnny startles, arms tightening around Kun.

“I’m going to shoot that thing,” Kun says, feeling awfully cold as Johnny turns to grab his phone.

Johnny grimaces, sitting up. “Sorry. It’s work.”

“S’okay,” Kun says, shifting to drop his head in Johnny’s lap, moaning when Johnny’s fingers immediately go to his hair.

“Ah, shit,” Johnny says, his hand tightening ever so slightly on Kun’s strands.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a problem with my stylist. I need to go to a fitting today.”

“What time?” Kun asks, disappointment bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“That doesn’t matter, I can drop by whenever I have time,” Johnny replies, mulling it over. “Maybe I can go after I drive you to your meeting? I can pick you up when you’re done, and we can go for a late lunch if you’d like?”

“Like a,” Kun starts, voice hoarse. “Like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date,” Johnny says softly.

Kun fights hard to resist the urge to yell into a pillow. It’s funny how he’s so bashful about something so innocent as a date, considering the salacious things they’ve done together (and to each other) in the relative safety of his room. But here he is, nearly hyperventilating at the thought of going for lunch together.

“How are we going to do that?” he asks, forcing his grin away but one glance at Johnny’s goofy face shows he is equally giddy.

“I know a place downtown,” Johnny suggests, playing with Kun’s hair. “It’s pretty low-key, members-only kind of thing. No paparazzi inside the building meaning we can go there without being accosted.”

“You’d want to do that with me? In public?”

“Yeah,” Johnny gives him a dopey smile. “Unless you don’t want to? Which is fine, I understand.”

“No!” Kun rushes out, sitting up. “Let’s go, I want to go with you.”

“Okay, great,” Johnny says carefully, placing his phone back on the nightstand. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Kun laughs, nervous excitement thrumming through his body.

“I don’t know,” Johnny huffs out breathlessly, anxiously mussing at his hair.

Kun grabs Johnny’s hand from where it is fussing away at his soft brown strands, giving him a reassuring squeeze with a confidence he doesn’t feel and draws Johnny back down with him, slotting behind the other. They’ll figure it out together.

Johnny does end up taking his phone call outside of the bedroom on account of Kun being too distracting with his wandering fingers. Kun decides to take a shower and get ready for the day. Remembering that the bathroom should be just across the bedroom, Kun makes a naked run for it.

When he returns to the bedroom after a quick freshening up, all wrapped up in the softest towels he’s ever had the pleasure of rubbing all over his body, he’s fully prepared to go for another nap. But a movement outside the window catches his eye − it’s Johnny outside on the patio. He is on the phone and judging from the hard clench of his jaw and the annoyed squint of his eyes its not a good conversation. He paces back and forth, disappearing and reappearing every handful of seconds and Kun decides that he needs to find out how to get out there with Johnny as soon as possible. He finds his clothes on the floor right where he discarded them last night, sliding into his jeans, not even bothering with underwear, and tugs his sweatshirt over his head.

He makes his way to the living room, spotting the opened French doors to what must be a wrap-around deck. He quickly grabs his sneakers, sliding into them once he’s outside. The wooden deck is sandy, which is unsurprising considering the grassy not quite hills surround the cottage. He rounds a corner and finds Johnny sitting on a wooden lounge set, phone discarded next to a rumpled pack of cigs and a well-worn booklet on the table in front of him. He walks over, passing a jacuzzi on his way.

“You don’t have a pool?” Kun jokes, brushing off a few stray leaves off the closed jacuzzi cover.

The question startles Johnny from his thoughts and he leans back into the chair, smiling tiredly.

“No, but I’m pretty sure there’s a private beach somewhere around there, just beyond the dunes,” Johnny replies, pointing to a spot in the distance. “It’s a little too cold for a swim though don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Kun laughs, gingerly taking a seat next to Johnny, helping Johnny’s legs up when he turns to throw his long, long legs across his lap. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is peachy keen now you’re here,” Johnny says, yelping when Kun squeezes his leg. Kun presses a quick kiss on Johnny’s cold lips in apology.

“You know you can tell me about your work problems, if you’d like? I may not understand, but I want to help if I can,” Kun says, searching Johnny’s eyes.

Johnny swallows, shrugging as he looks away. “My agent called. Production meeting for the feature I’m starting when I’m back in LA is being moved up. The team asked if I could come earlier, but the contract says I start on Friday. They want to meet on Wednesday, but that’s when I fly back.”

“They can’t make you if it’s in your contract, though, right?” Kun asks.

“Yeah, but I don’t know. It’s silly,” Johnny chuckles nervously.

“What is?”

“I don’t like disappointing people, I guess,” Johnny admits, taking a shuddering breath.

The admission makes Kun pause, thinking over his next words carefully. “Do you want to go back earlier?”

“I really, really do not want to go before I absolutely have to,” Johnny says, his mouth twisting wryly. “These next few days are our last together before I have to go back for at least a month, if not more, before I can even think of going anywhere outside the States.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure they’ll understand that it is not exactly easy for you to reschedule if you’re halfway across the world. They will understand, and your contract is final,” Kun considers, remembering that Johnny’s been excited to work on an action movie again. “You’re looking forward to shooting this one, right?”

“I was,” Johnny says, before frowning. “I mean, I still am, but I’m not going to be here. With you.”

“The time difference is pretty rough.” Kun scowls, before catching himself.

“Sixteen hours,” Johnny offers.

“Then we’d better make our last days count, no? We’ll figure it out,” he says, hoping that his own disappointment doesn’t bleed into his voice, hoping that Johnny isn’t dissuaded in any way from doing what he loves.

Johnny gives him a weak smile.

“Is that the script for next week?” Kun asks, eyeing the clearly well-read and beaten up bundle on the table.”

“Yes,” Johnny says, grabbing the script off the table, fingering the pages. “I need to know this by Friday.”

“Would you like me to take you through your lines?” Kun has absolutely no experience reading scripts, but he figures it must be similar to quizzing people in preparation for tests. Not to toot his own horn, but Kun is very good at quizzing others, having had much practice between his own years of school, university and now helping the teens whenever they have tests coming up. But never Renjun, he’s already too studious on his very own.

Johnny perks up, sitting up straight. “Would you? It’s all talk, talk, talk.”

“Hand it over. This is that action movie, right? Basic plot?”

Johnny passes him the booklet. “I'm a difficult but brilliant junior officer who in about twenty minutes will save the world from nuclear disaster.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less of you,” Kun says, leafing through the pages, amazed at the number of notes and scribbles written in between the lines. “Where should I start?”

“Page eighty-eight, from the top.”

“Message from command. Would you like them to send in the HKs?” Kun reads out. He looks up inquisitively at Johnny, a little uncertain about his English pronunciation. Johnny gives him a reassuring smile, and Kun knows then that it really doesn’t matter if he makes a fool out of himself in front of the other. Johnny would never laugh at him.

Kun watches Johnny settle into his role in rapt attention, impressed at the way his entire demeanour changes: his jaw severe and his shoulders tensed in a harsh line. “No, turn over 4 TR’s and tell them we need radar feedback before the KFT’s return at 19 hundred – then inform the Pentagon that we’ll be needing black star cover from ten hundred through twelve fifteen – and don’t you dare say one word about how many mistakes I made in that speech or I’ll throw a rock at you.”

“Very well, captain. I’ll pass that on straightaway,” Kun says, giving him a mock salute.

“Thank you.” Johnny nods severely before breaking character. “How many mistakes did I make?”

“Eleven.”

“Damn,” Johnny says, straightening up again. “And Wainwright...”

“Cartwright.”

“Cartwright, Wainwright, whatever your name is, I promised little Jimmy I’d be home for his birthday – could you get a message through that I may be a little late.”

“Certainly. And little Johnny?”

“My son’s name is Johnny?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yup,” Kun grins, popping his P.

Johnny barks out a laugh. “Huh... Well, get a message through to him too.”

“On it.”

“What do you think?” Johnny asks, the hitch in his voice uncertain.

Kun lets out a breath, thinking over the basic plot in his head and the lines he barely understood. “Gripping. I don’t often watch action movies, but this one sounds gripping.”

“You think I should do something else instead?” Johnny asks, biting worriedly at his lip.

“I’m sure you’d be great in anything if you set your mind to it. You haven’t given me any reason to think otherwise. You’re kind of amazing,” Kun rushes out before he has the chance to feel silly about oversharing.

Johnny blinks at him, once, twice, eyes impossibly round before a soft pink blush blotches across his cheeks. He looks away, and Kun follows his line of sight. They watch the tall grass dance in the wind without a worry. Seeing them sway and hearing their rustle, Kun is reminded that it’s chilly out, the cold autumn wind biting at his vulnerable freshly showered skin.

He rubs his palms together, warming them up as best as he can before cupping Johnny’s ruddy cheeks in his hands, gently turning his head so the other is facing him. Johnny goes easily, and Kun’s heart shakes. Johnny always goes wherever he needs him, and for that Kun reaches over to kiss him tenderly, his cold lips tingling when he meets Johnny’s even colder ones.

Johnny is the first to break their kiss, nuzzling his face into Kun’s palms. “Sometimes it's hard, this job, you know? It’s hard to find someone you can be yourself with,” Johnny says, his honey eyes twinkling.

“I’m here,” Kun says, thumbing at the dark skin of Johnny’s under eyes. 

“Yeah, you are.” Johnny breathes out, smiling. “C’mon let’s figure out breakfast.” Johnny stands, pulling Kun up with him in a swift move, holding him close. Kun barely has time to react as Johnny carries him back inside, his startled yelp ringing in the wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time to edit some more of the Antonov in between writing my final paper, so I thought what the heck I'll just upload this little thing. This is my shortest chapter, but I hope it doesn't disappoint. Johnny and Kun being soft and sleepy is, undoubtedly, my favourite thing on this entire planet lol. Also, that script reading scene is more or less lifted from Notting Hill. It's one of my favourite scenes in the film and tbh I didn't feel like figuring out a different script for them to read from lmao!
> 
> A big huge, huge, huge, huge thank you to everyone who took the time to leave comments and kudos. Y'all seriously make my days! TT If you've left a comment and I haven't replied, its not you.. it's me. I don't know why but I sometimes feel super awkward and I dont know how to reply. But I can assure you that I've probably cried a bit reading your comments lmao. ♥♥♥


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